


headed straight for the castle

by theriveroflight



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir Identity Reveal, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Assassins & Hitmen, F/M, Magic, Marichat | Adrien Agreste as Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Multimouse, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Royalty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:42:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 24,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22424278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theriveroflight/pseuds/theriveroflight
Summary: Adrien Agreste used to be a public figure. Cousin of the Prince Felix...and then something happened. Something major, and Adrien ran away from the villa he lived with his father in. The queendom of the Graham de Vanilys was devastated, but life moves on.Chat Noir is a rogue. Nobody knows anything about his life, nobody knows anything about what happened that made him become a rogue. He dons a black mask and cat years. And nobody knows what he is under the mask.Marinette Dupain-Cheng has been, from birth, trained to uphold the next line of Cheng assassins. She’s fifteen now - the age where Cheng assassins don their name and symbol. She has selected the mouse. Multimouse. She can be everywhere at once, silent as a mouse’s pawsteps.In the village of Mirstone the two collide.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Chloé Bourgeois/Félix
Comments: 43
Kudos: 121
Collections: January 2020 - Exchange





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cedalodon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cedalodon/gifts).



> Written for the January 2020 Miraculous Fanfiction exchange.
> 
> Here's the funny thing. I think Ceda had two profiles in it bc he said after the first ten were posted that his wasn't up, but I claimed the first one listed and it was him. Surprise?
> 
> Anyways. There were...a lot of possibilities I could've chosen. The direction I went is probably the most self-indulgent, although Marichat isn't exactly my favorite love square corner. It took me a bit to figure it out, and I had to use a plot generator, but the plot has deviated from that a bit. The initial generated plot will be revealed at the end, because it contains spoilers.
> 
> Eight chapters is a heavy estimate, based on the fact that I'm working on Chapter 5 right now and I'm pretty deep into the plot. More might be added as I keep writing.

Multimouse doesn't actually live in the village. She dwells just outside, in the forests surrounding the village.

She's a phantom, a legend to the denizens of Mirstone.

But all legends stem from truth.

* * *

“I heard you're the up-and-coming Cheng assassin. Is that true?” The mysterious person is in her woods. The Chengs are famous for being ruthless, and they always get the job done. The only sign you see of them is the character for their last name. People  _ know  _ that she exists, that there’s a mouse Cheng assassin out there - but the cleverest mouse never gets caught.

“Yes,” she answers, taking a chance.

“I need...a service from you.” The voice is feminine, though the person might not be, necessarily. Tall, and wearing an outfit that covers all their features.

“What does it involve?”

The person presents a pouch. Marinette can tell by the way it sags that it's loaded with something heavy - probably coins. With that much money, she could do anything.

“I need you to unmask Chat Noir.”

Chat Noir. The infamous rogue. Rumor has it that underneath the mask he wears are scars. Nobody knows where they’d be from. Chat actually hasn’t done anything too bad - just the mysterious thing throws everyone off and they get suspicious. Other than that, Chat hasn’t done anything too bad besides stealing food, which Marinette generally presumes is for himself.

“And how shall I inform you when I do?”

Not if, but when. Marinette knows how to be confident. And that confidence gets her customers.

“There’s a method inside that pouch.”

And this customer can dish it back, too.

“I’ll do it. Do you have anything else?” Marinette glares at the person. They hum, the sound of thinking.

“I need it done soon, so if you could contact me with information within the next year, that would be…” They pause. “Ideal. Also, once you know, I will give the order on whether to kill or not. What may I call you?”

“You can call me Multimouse.” Killing is what she’s supposed to do for a living. She’s an assassin, a hitman, a killer for hire.

The stranger bursts into laughter, a mocking peal. “Oh, how sweet. A year, miss Multimouse. Good luck.”

* * *

Marinette curses as soon as the stranger is out of earshot, chipping a small rock probably across the woods. She hopes it doesn’t hit the stranger, or some poor animal.

Chat Noir.  _ Chat Noir.  _ Chat Noir is  _ not  _ the type of person she’d like to meet. However, she  _ would  _ like to know behind the mystery. That’s her main motivation. Not the money.

The little cottage she lives in belongs to an old person that she lived with for a few months up until his death. He had been like a second grandfather to her - she never knew her mother’s parents, and her father’s were...not the greatest.

But for now, she sets the pouch on the counter and conks out in bed.

Sleep. Maybe it’ll bring her some clarity.

* * *

She doesn’t go into the village often, but she needs to keep an ear out for Chat Noir. Everywhere at once, quiet as a mouse. That’s her.

_ “Ecnelis deip,” _ she whispers, a spell for quiet feet.

She has her assassin’s clothes on - plain grays, with some accents of pink. Hair in twin buns, gray mask. Normally she goes to the village as Marinette Dupain, a baker’s daughter that has recently moved out to become a nursemaid for the poor old man who lives outside the village. They don’t know he’s dead. Marinette didn’t kill him, though. He didn’t deserve to die how he did. Two daggers are hidden in her gray boots, and her belt is an additional weapon, whether it’s the outside rope or the inside garotte.

_ “Rucsbo,” _ she exhales, making her hard to see unless you look for her. She treads around, hearing the daily gossip around the square.

“Chat Noir is here,” the local baker says. “Some of my bread is missing, and I found the pawprint footprints on my floor this morning. I have no idea how he got in. I think he’s born with magic.”

Some people are born with magic. The Chengs typically aren’t - relying on their own skills. Marinette is the first magical one in her branch of the Chengs in a long time. The Dupains, however, are a magical family. Marinette knows plenty of spells - mostly for stealth. She handles most things without it, but stealth is something she has trouble with, so a couple extra spells to help her stay invisible are good.

And now she knows. Chat is probably a born mage, and probably pretty desperate for food.

“That wouldn’t surprise me,” someone replies. “I mean, I haven’t seen him around, but he should stick around here for a few days, doing who knows what.”

Marinette pads off. She knows everything she needs to. When she’s within the safety of the woods, she says the spell that will dispel the other two.  _ “Relever.” _

If a spectator were to have followed the obscured shadow, they would have seen a bit of shimmering, and Multimouse would have appeared.

* * *

Marinette arrives at her cottage, still in her Multimouse getup.

It’s a good thing she is, because there’s a person sitting on her table.

The stranger - criminal - is in all black, blond, with two...things coming out of his hair. They look up from eating, crumbs all over their mouth, and green eyes stare into hers.

The person hops down from the table. “I’m really really sorry I didn’t mean to break in I thought this place was abandoned-”

“And the prize for lack of observation skills go to the stranger in all black eating food on my dining table!”

“What?”

And that’s when it clicks.

_ This  _ is Chat Noir. She needs to keep him around. She needs to unmask him.

“Garden outside is flourishing. No weeds or anything.”

_ “Ohhhhh,  _ now that you have so  _ greatly  _ explained it, I  _ understand. _ The roguish Chat Noir, at your service.”

“Ah yes. The charismatic Marinette at your service, but you may call me Multimouse.”

“Cat and mouse?  _ Purrhaps  _ we’re meant to be.”

“You can forget it, Chat Noir.”

“You mean  _ furget?” _

“You know what? I can’t handle this right now. Go.” From under the rope, she pulls out the garotte and pulls it taut. “Or--”

“If I go back out, I’ll keep stealing from the poor bakers of this town. You wouldn’t want that, do you? You seem like a pretty upstanding person.”

She scoffs. “Upstanding? Not really. I manipulated the old man who used to be here into letting me stay here. You don’t know who I really am or what I really do. And you, as far as my awareness goes, don’t care about  _ anyone.” _

“Well, Minimouse, guess us two law-breakers shall stick together, huh?”

Somehow, he’s managed to pick up on something about her. So maybe not Mr. Oblivious after all.

“I need to go change. You better not be here when I get back. I want to head out into town without worrying about people fearing me.”

“Fearing you? You’re literally a mouse-themed...vigilante?” Marinette exhales a sigh of relief as soon as he says vigilante. Chat hasn’t figured out the truth - at least not yet.

“Have you heard the saying  _ silent but deadly _ ? I feel like you could use it.” She walks off to go change out of her fatigues.

* * *

When she returns, Chat is still there.

She takes a breath, and remembers that she needs to  _ befriend _ him. She has a year to unmask the cat, and he’s fallen right into her lap.

She’s taken off the mask. She needs to go into town anyways. She still has the dagger, in case of anything. What kind of assassin would she be if she  _ didn’t  _ have a weapon on her at all times?

“I have to head out. Stay or go, makes no difference to me.”

Because now that she has him, she can always track him through the crumbs of bread he’s left on the ground and table.

* * *

The village is crowded in the town center. Marinette slips into the crowd and sees that something royalty related has occurred. The banner of the Graham de Vanilys towers above her and she can’t help but gape. Why is someone from the royal family here?

“Residents of Mirstone, it is with great displeasure that I inform you that Queen Amelie has passed.”

Marinette remembers the words almost exactly. They’re the same words said when King Jean, Queen Amelie's husband, died. Seeing as it’s a queendom, Amelie was the more important one.

“Prince Felix, as the son of the late queen, has been set to inherit. But since he has married the Princess Chloé, she shall inherit the throne per queendom protocol. The coronation date has been set to three weeks from now. We hope to see as many of you as possible there, and we will be broadcasting the coronation via magic for those who cannot see it in person. Long live the new Queen and King!”

The crowd roars in return, and whoever delivered the speech retreats. They’re probably going around the land, letting all the villages know.

The town dissolves into chaos and gossip between the others gathered.

Marinette takes a deep breath, and heads home.

* * *

Chat, surprisingly, is still there when she breezes back into the cottage, slamming the door behind her as she walks in.

“Well, what was  _ that  _ all about?” he asks, playful in tone.

“The Queen is dead and my childhood nemesis is taking over.”

“You knew Chloé as a kid?”

“We went to the same magic school, may wonders never cease. She hated me because I was more talented and likeable than her, and I hated her because she was mean to literally everyone and used her father as an excuse to get away with anything and everything. You keep up with the royal family?”

One of his hands came up to scratch the back of his neck as he sheepishly lowered his head. “Let’s just say that I’m personally involved and leave it at that.”

“Personally involved, huh? Well, let it be known that I am not exactly the type to pry when I have my own skeletons in the closet.”

“So. Chloé's queen now, huh?” His voice is...soft, almost as though he’s intimately acquainted with some side of Chloé that Marinette’s never seen. “I think she’ll do a good job. She and Felix balance each other out.”

“Yeah, sure.” She doesn’t believe it, though she makes a mental note on the subject of Chat’s identity - connected to the royal family somehow.

“I need to be there. When’s the coronation?”

“Three weeks from today. We have time to travel.”

“We? Minimouse, you’re going to the  _ coronation?” _

“My parents live in the capital. It’s an excuse to drop by their place and see how they’re doing. I miss them, but I’m not really supposed to communicate with them often. Another hazard of the slightly illegal business, am I right?”

“You are indeed. Guess we’re going to the capital, huh?”

“Everyone still thinks the old man who lives here is alive and that I take care of him for a living. I don’t - I do the slightly illegal thing you don’t really know about.”

“Do you grow magic berries for non-magics to use? Do  _ you  _ use them?”

“Let’s go with that for my profession, but no. I have the spark within me.”

The spark is slang for magic - born magics are people who were born with ‘the spark,’ and taught magics were people born sans ‘the spark.’

“Oh, me too.”

“I mean, I knew that. You’re a pretty infamous person, Chat Noir.”

“I was hoping you wouldn’t say that, Minimouse. I have a reputation, but I was hoping it wouldn’t precede me.”

Marinette is a bit affronted by that. Chat Noir is one of her targets, albeit in a different way from most, and she knows  _ everything  _ about her targets. Everything there is to know, that is.

Chat Noir is an enigma, though. Marinette knows as much as she can, breathed in from town gossip and news. It’s not a  _ lot,  _ but it’s something.

She almost says,  _ it’s my job to know. _

Instead, she says, “Reputation doesn’t  _ precede  _ anyone. It follows you around like a ghost, and sometimes it sends out feelers ahead. That’s why we think it might  _ precede, _ but it really doesn’t.”

Chat tilts his head at her, the question in his body language reading,  _ how? _

She doesn’t answer.

* * *

“The thing is, I actually do have a guest room. It used to belong to the old man, so if you want to take it, you can.”

“What happened to him?”

She looks down, willing herself not to cry. “He died a few months ago. He’d been sick long before I got here - apparently, he didn’t want a nursemaid fussing over him for the rest of his life, but I told him that I was looking for a job in town and needed a place to stay. And I told the town that his family had hired someone against his will and they believed it because I am rather charming. I tried to help him with magic, but he was too far along.”

“That’s...awful.”

“Yeah. I mean, it wasn’t my fault, there was nothing I could do, but I still feel guilty for taking over his cottage and his resources, and using his life to manipulate the people around me.”

“I mean, I don’t know about you, but I’ve done plenty of things people would consider evil. You’ve probably heard plenty of my exploits.”

“I mean, I know you stole from the baker in town - but there are certain things you have to do to survive.”

“And if we keep justifying and justifying, how far does it go? How far before our morals grow corrupt and we end up doing true evil and justifying it as good because we are doing it for our own survival?”

“I don’t know. But stealing a piece of bread to survive isn’t an absolutely evil thing, and if that’s all you’ve done, then that’s fine.”

Marinette’s asked herself that question plenty of times, and keeps telling herself: as long as she remembers to keep asking, she’s probably okay.

“I guess.”

“I’m going to sleep. You should, too. Big journey tomorrow.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Alright, Chat. You ready?”
> 
> She slings the backpack on, grabbing her canteen and her spare canteen.
> 
> “Good to go.”
> 
> The two of them leave the house. Marinette stops at the well, refilling both of the canteens from the well.
> 
> “Alright, let’s get this show on the road.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2! I have the first four chapters and an interlude fully written, and am about halfway through chapter 5.

Marinette rises with the sun - it’s a habit she has. She always cares for her garden first thing, and she likes being the person to care for it. A born-magic can make their gardens care for themselves - keep weeds out and all that. She doesn’t because the garden is one of the only things she can care for and do out here. But for the journey she’ll make the plants self-preserving. Reverse it once she gets back.

_ “Revreserp es,” _ she says to each individual plant, touching them as she walks through the organized aisles of the garden, picking off the little sprouts of weeds she spots. The plants may preserve themselves, but she’ll take care of the weeds while she still has time. It’ll probably be a while before Chat gets up, if she has his personality pinned down right.

The sun is up, the birds in the forest are chirping, and as Marinette heads back in, she finds Chat at her table, magically making eggs cook themselves. “I saw you were out in the garden. Didn’t get up too long ago, just...got out of bed and started cooking.”

“You woke up like that?” She’s skeptical, to say the least.

“I have an enchanted item on me that makes me Chat Noir. If you were to take it off...well there goes Chat Noir. I put it on, it dresses me instantly. I enchanted it to help me out.”

“So, if I were to take said enchanted item off, your clothes would disappear?”

“Well, not really, just I’d have different clothes on.”

“That’s a pretty good enchantment - I should tie my fatigues to one like that. Man, that’d be really helpful.”

“You’re welcome,” he replies.

She doesn’t thank him, though.

They end up eating breakfast in silence.

“Does anyone come out here?” he says suddenly.

“Not really,” she answers. “I mean, the townspeople are always friendly towards me when I’m dressed as another civilian. But they’re not really my friends, you know? I mean, I was friends with the old man, but he was a bit of a recluse, and I’m not really friends with the townspeople. I’m not there very often. There’s no reason for anyone to be out checking on me.”

“That’s...both good and bad?” He shrugs. “I mean, that way nobody knows about the lie.”

“I guess that’s something I have going for me.”

Marinette goes back to her room and packs some of her things. Multimouse fatigues, a few other changes of regular clothes, and then she goes into the kitchen for food.

The bag is enchanted to be never-full. So, she puts a lot of preserved food in there - dried meats and berries and things like that.

“Alright, Chat. You ready?”

She slings the backpack on, grabbing her canteen and her spare canteen.

“Good to go.”

The two of them leave the house. Marinette stops at the well, refilling both of the canteens from the well.

“Alright, let’s get this show on the road.”

* * *

The forest just outside of Mirstone is  _ huge.  _ It borders quite a few villages, and even will lead one to the outskirts of the capital. That’s part of why Marinette likes living in it. Instead of having to take the main paths to the capital, which are riddled with thieves, pickpockets, and horse-drawn carriages, she can cut through the woods and get there. It’s safer for her, in the comfort of the trees. That isn’t to say there isn’t any danger, but the danger is mostly just wild animals, which have always liked her.

Besides, it’s easy to lose people in the forest. It’s harder to lose followers on the main paths.

“Why are we going this way?” Chat asks, the two walking (mostly) side by side.

“Because it’s easier. Because we won’t get trampled by a carriage. Because there aren’t any pickpockets here. There’s a lot of reasons I’d rather take the forest. It’s where I live. I know this place better than I know myself. We’ll get to the capital well before the three weeks.”

“What do you mean, well before three weeks?”

“Like, we’ll get there within like a week. We can go a little slower if you want, but I like this pace.”

“I don’t mind this. It’s nice. I might get tired within a few hours, though.”

“Alright. If you get tired we can always do some resting. I know I’m pushing the pace a bit, but we have plenty of time.”

“Sounds good, Minimouse.”

* * *

They travel for a few hours before high noon and the drowsiness of the mid-afternoon. The mossy, padded roots of a small clearing beckon the two of them, and they stop to rest and eat.

They talk discursively in between eating, rationing for the coming days. Chat falls asleep somewhere along the line, and she tries to resist falling into sleep, but in the end, she falls too.

* * *

She wakes up first, just like she did that morning, but in the middle of the night.

The sun isn't peeking through the treetops. She wakes up Chat.

“Let's get going, Chat.” His green eyes glow in the dark.

“Well, good morning to you too,” he growls 

She sighs, feeling much older than her fifteen years, and reaches out a hand. “Get up, Chat. We're going to keep moving.”

He takes her hand and she pulls him up.

“You're pretty strong, Minimouse. Don't really look it, though.”

She glares, but doesn't say what's on her mind.

* * *

The sun peeks between the leaves above them after they’ve been walking for a bit.

“I’m surprised we haven’t encountered any wild animals yet,” she casually says. “I mean, the odd bird and squirrel, but other than that…”

“Now that you mention it, that is kinda odd.” Chat looks pensive, which is something that Marinette’s never seen before.

They trek onwards towards the capital, Chat starting to whistle a tune, high and---

“Can you please  _ shut up?”  _ Marinette growls, fed up with the tune on repeat. “You’re driving me insane.”

He starts  _ singing,  _ made up little la-da-das with the tune he’s conjured in his head. Marinette sighs with frustration. “Seriously. Or I’ll cut your head off.”

He snaps his mouth shut, but then talks. “Okay, you don’t need to be so uptight about it.” He sighs too. “So _ rry.” _

“Apology accepted.”

After that little blip, the walk is awkward. No longer side by side, they walk with Marinette leading because she doesn’t want to talk to him and he probably doesn’t want to talk to her, either.

They stop briefly at a stream to refill their canteens, but are silent throughout that. The tension between them is palpable.

When they stop for the night, the sky is lit up in a million different hues from the setting sun.

She doesn’t look at him. Instead, she watches the colors turn to navy through the leaves of the trees. The bag is between them for the sake of food.

“Good night,” he says, but she only murkily hears it when she’s trying to dream, and when she wakes, isn’t sure if she heard it at all.

* * *

The next morning, she rises with the sun. There’s a racoon digging through the pack, and she pulls it out by the tail. “Hey, buddy, don’t dig through my stuff, okay?” she whispers to the forest animal, setting it down. The racoon skitters off, its worst fear of discovery having been realized.

The pouch with the contact device has fallen out of her bag. She repacks it, burying that at the very bottom. She can always retrieve it if she needs to.

She lets Chat wake up on his own. For whatever their tenuous friendship was worth, Chat Noir is still her target. Besides, they could afford to slow down a bit. She pushed the pace a lot yesterday because of her anger. They’d emerge from the woods in five more days, with another few hours of travel to actually reach the inner city, where the coronation would be held.

When he does eventually wake, she hands him some freshly harvested berries. A peace offering, and something to eat other than the dried food that’s been the reality of the past few days. The berries say  _ I’m sorry _ without words, because words are ingenuine, but actions are.

“We’ll go a little slower today? Stop and smell the roses? Have an actual fire, maybe?” she offers. Another apology. She knows her language, how she speaks without saying. It’s about gifts and actions, not words. Words aren’t important. And that’s how she knew that Chat was insincere when apologizing. Because when you apologize, you have to do something to make sure that you change something in your demeanor.

“Actual, not dried food? Count me in,” he answers. Acceptance.

“Dried food is the best. Don’t knock it, it’s been keeping us alive.”

Maybe they can get back to where they were before.

* * *

They stop by the stream to build their fire, after gathering sticks throughout the day. She can make fire come to life, so they just need dry sticks and bark to catch. They settle far enough away where the moisture of the stream won’t hinder their fire, but close enough to easily draw the water over magically if it grows out of control.

_ “Uef erttem,”  _ she says, casting the spell to set the fire. They decide to fish instead.

“I don't want to hunt. The animals trust me to not endanger them. I mean, fish are pretty uncommunicative. I don't have the same understandings with them.”

Chat's on the other side of the bank to hide his shadow from the river, sharpened claw-like fingers (apparently, he doesn't have them outside of the outfit) ready. Marinette just hasthe most makeshift fishing pole ever. the most makeshift of makeshift fishing poles.

“Are you...okay?”

“I’m, uh, fine.”

The woods were her place to relax. It’s not like she was really isolated.

But still, something warm trickles into her from his concern.

* * *

The fire dies after sundown. Marinette watches it fade into a few simmering cinders, which she resolves with a quick,  _ “Uae erttem.”  _ The forest won’t catch on fire tonight - or ever, if Marinette can help it. 

Chat’s snoring disrupts the peacefulness of the clearing, the sounds of crickets chirping muffled in the distance. Marinette, however, can work with that.

She sleeps, and dreams for once in her normally deep sleep.

* * *

_ Marinette is standing at a forked path. One leads into a forest. The other leads to a city. The city looks faintly like the capital, but it isn’t the same as the one she was raised in. Chat walks along the path to the city. But the forest still beckons her, calling her through nature. _

_ She chooses the forest, because it isn’t the same capital. She doubts her family will be there, waiting for her. And the coronation won’t be there, and no one else will. It’s just a city. _

* * *

The remaining four days in the forest go by surprisingly quickly.

The first day, Chat started talking about his past. Though it was in rather generic terms - it appeared clear that Chat had a secret to keep related to his identity.

“My only two friends growing up were my cousin and this girl who was like, a family friend. We were friends because our parents were friends. And then my mother died, and that’s when everything went downhill. My father started to isolate me from everyone else, under the excuse that I needed to learn to be a man. I was only let out for sparring lessons. And then someone ransacked the house completely, and while that was happening, I left and became Chat Noir. My father died in that attack, apparently. I’m glad that he’s dead. I miss my mom, though.”

The story sounds a little familiar, slightly modified, but she can’t quite connect it.

“I’m the first person in my family to be born with the spark in generations as far as they know. They didn’t know what to do with me at first, because we have a family business that magic doesn’t mix into very often. So they sent me to magic school so I could learn how to use it for the good of the family trade. And then they sent me to do it.”

“How old are you?”

“Fifteen.”

“Same here.”

He hasn’t appeared to put it together. Fifteen, self-themed as an animal, vaguely not-Grahamian…Someone smarter would’ve put it together. Then again, someone smarter than her would also be able to pin the sense of familiarity with Chat’s story to someone specific.

The second day, they don’t really talk about anything serious. It’s all fantasy, what they’ll do once they reach the capital. The watching of the coronation is obvious, but they have an extra two weeks of time, whatever shall they do? Marinette knows that she’ll be visiting her family, but Chat doesn’t really have a family, based off of his story.

He could always accompany her, but that might be a monumentally bad idea. The implications of bringing a boy home to see her family are epically awful, Chat Noir or not. It’s especially horrific because of who Chat is, because of his reputation.

Besides, she doesn’t want to think about being in a romantic  _ relationship  _ with Chat. It’s bad enough as it is, both of them hiding things from each other that they don’t want to say out of fear. If he knew that she was an assassin, he might think that she was out to kill him. And that’s not the truth. At least not yet. Whatever her hirer declares. For the boost, and at least partially for the money.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Join the Discord I mentioned in my opening notes last chapter! ](https://discord.gg/mlfanworks)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _This is a monumentally bad idea,_ she thinks, but she doesn’t say anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I pushed the estimate to 10 chapters. We'll see how that goes.

Day three brings them close to the edge of the forest, but they’re too tired, even though they can see the few farms that line the outer edge of the capital through the trees.

They rest on the outskirts, and Marinette protects her bag with a charm and holding it close. When she wakes, it’s just the way she left it. Chat’s not there, though.

He comes back shortly after.

“I woke up before you, figured I’d gather us some breakfast.” He has a lot of berries, and the two divide the motley in halves. Marinette eats her portion quickly.

“Alright, Chat. Let’s worry about getting you past the city wall.”

A wall surrounds the inner city, with a single gate guarded by the palace guards.

He taps the staff attached to his belt. “This? Extends a  _ lot. _ I can vault over.”

“Okay. I can get into the city, and then look out for you vaulting over the wall and help you maybe. I also have a long rope…”

“I don’t have quite the upper body strength for that. Do you?”

“I don’t either.”

“I could also just go in as my not-Chat self, but that might cause a lot of chaos.”

“What’d your civilian self do to the point where you needed to be Chat Noir all the time?”

“It’s a long story. I already told you most of it. I mean, you don’t know the details, but you know the story.” Chat shrugs. “I’d rather have the reputation as Chat Noir follow me around than as my citizen self. I don’t want to be him anymore.” He seems a little sad at the prospect. “There are people that I’ll miss, sure - my cousin, my aunt, my best friend…but overall, I’d rather live my life as a rogue than worry about being an orphan.”

“That’s understandable. I mean, at least I have my parents, even if I constantly have to pretend to be older to avoid suspicion from the townspeople, but my life has been pretty good. Your life sounds like it sucks, man.”

“Truer words have never been said. But it’s not as bad. I have you now.”

That same part of her thaws again at the words, and she consciously doesn’t think about it.

* * *

_ This is a monumentally bad idea,  _ she thinks, but she doesn’t say anything.

The guards at the gate boredly examine her papers. “You know, you’re the earliest of the people who have come for the coronation,” one remarks. The other looks up at her, and she recognizes him.

“Oh, holy cow, Marinette? It’s been forever since I saw you!” Kim proclaims. “Guys, this is one of the people I went to school with before I joined the guard academy. We can trust her."

“She’s good.”

“Her papers are fine, too,” the first guard adds, handing her back her identification. A third guard opens up the ‘personal’ gate for her. They return her bag. Nothing. The false bottom worked to hide the weapons - and the sachet with the contact device.

She goes through the gate, making a promise to talk to Kim sometime soon that she probably won’t keep.

* * *

There’s an inner and outer shell. The outer one is an actual wall - the inner one is just a fence. It’s nearly impossible to get over the wall without passing inspection, but they have the fence, too, just as an extra layer to the residents of the city.

If someone were to be standing at the midpoint of the eastern edge of the wall, they would see a faint silhouette of a girl standing by the fence, tapping her foot as she waits for something. Most people go directly through both gates, so in order to prevent suspicion she did that, but she snuck back between the layers through invisibility and the rope, using it to climb the fence with practiced ease. Not that she’s hopped the fence before - but climbing is part of her training.

She hears the guards shouting, and knows that Chat is probably vaulting over at this very moment. She jumps off the top of the fence and retrieves the staff, using it to shimmy down to the ground.

“Thanks, Minimouse,” he says.

“We’re not out of the woods.” She doesn’t dispel the enchantment keeping her invisible. “Quick, hide yourself, climbing the fence won’t be difficult. I’ll get up first, and then drop the rope for you.”

_ “Rucsbo,” _ he says, the first time she’s seen him actually use magic. She knows he can, but she’s been the main spellcaster throughout this journey.

As the guards run along the inner wall, Chat clings to the outer wall, and Marinette silently climbs the fence. The invisible rope drops, and Chat climbs up the rope. Or at least Marinette can feel the tugging on the rope as he (hopefully) pulls himself up.

Marinette drops off the fence. She hears the ruckus of the guards, sees the shaking of the fence as Chat climbs. He reaches the top of the fence (she can’t see the shaking anymore) and jumps to the ground (she hears the thump of landing). “Over here,” she whispered. Chat handed her the rope.

“Split up,” he whispers. “I’ll send a message when I’m safe.” The plan makes sense - if she goes with him and he gets caught, they’re both in trouble. But if they split, then she can’t keep him safe. It’s a sacrifice, and it makes sense, but it doesn’t mean she likes it.

She nods. She knows exactly where she’ll go, her safe space from the start. They part in a frenzied dash.

* * *

Eventually, she gets tired.  _ “Relever,” _ she gasps. The city is like she remembers, bumpy roads, the fear of carriages, the various merchants yelling, the man-made cacophony.

Still, she navigates her way to the Tom & Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie. The smell of fresh pastries is tantalizing, and reminds her of home. She breezes by the crowd in the store to the kitchen, where at least one of her parents is probably cleaning up. The parent in the kitchen is her mom.

She knocks on the door. It’s locked, because it’s past closing time, but she can see her mom inside, wiping down the counter.

She taps on the glass, once, twice, three times. Her mother notices, pales, and unlocks the door.

They hug, for the first time since Marinette officially departed.

“Marinette, what are you doing here?” she asks.

“The coronation. I’m early, but I missed you and Dad.”

“Tom!” her mom yells, calling her dad.

He comes down the stairs. “Marinette! You’re home!” he exclaims, sweeping her up into a hug that he puts a little too much into.

“Dad--” she gasps, slithering out of his grasp. A little bird comes breezing in through the door, made of paper, and lands in her palm as she extends for it. Chat.

“A message?” Mom asks.

“I was travelling with someone, but they got held up at the gate because of the breach, so I asked them to send me a message when they got in,” she explains, twisting the story around a bit to not implicate herself.

“Traveling with another person born with the spark? That’s a little dangerous, sweetheart. I don’t want you to get hurt.” The deep timbre of her father’s voice wavers with concern, and she almost feels bad for lying to them.

“Dad. I  _ know  _ how to handle myself.”

“She’s  _ our  _ daughter, Tom. I trust her.”

Marinette clenches the paper bird in her hands. “I came home early to see you. I wanted to witness the coronation,” both of them send her withering glares, “but it’s an excuse to reunite with my family and friends.”

“Your old room is still okay to sleep on - a little dusty, but that doesn’t really matter.”

She heads behind the storefront and up the stairs, dropping her bag beside her bed. She collapses on top of it, and before she can fall asleep, she unfolds the little bird. Magic messages are whispered and folded within the paper, and then sealed and delivered with a spell. The bird is folded expertly - it looks like Chat’s done this several times before.

“Hey, Minimouse.” He sounds a little tired. “Just wanted you to know that I got away safe to the town green and I’ll be sleeping in a tree up there overnight. Meet me at sunrise near the statue.”

The message is a one-time use. Contained in the folds, once it's released you can't put it back.

Not like she wanted to hear it again anyways. Statue at sunrise.

The statue in question is a statue of Queen Victoire, one of the greatest. Led them in wartime and into victory. A battle queen. They've had peace since.

She places the blank paper on her nightstand, drops her bag beside her, and falls asleep surprisingly quickly.

* * *

She wakes before sunrise, hearing the downstairs baking. She changes into her fatigues, tying her hair into the twin buns she wears with it, keeping the couple of hidden daggers in it on her, but she won't need too many weapons for this task.

Marinette heads downstairs, grabs a few of the pastries from yesterday that can't be sold.

And then she slips out again.

* * *

The statue, at sunrise, isn't particularly busy. Normally, the roads around it are bustling and there are travellers abound and at least one artist studying the statue for a painting.

But she sees Chat leaning up against the statue, and heads over.

“Sleep well?” she asked.

“As well as you can in a tree. How are your parents?”

“They’re doing well. They missed me a lot, and I had to lie to them a bit because you delivered the message while I was still talking.”

“Oh, so you’re  _ that _ kind of person.” The kind of person that hates lying to their parents.

“I’d peg you as one, too.”

“I mean, if my parents were still alive? Yeah, absolutely. But they aren’t, so we’re both here.” Chat sighs. “Two truths, one lie. I don’t miss my father. I don’t miss being a kid. I miss my mother.”

“You miss being a kid. I think we all do, sometimes. I wish I didn’t have to grow up.”

“Well, we all have to grow up sometime. Earlier the better, am I right?” He offers an ingenuine smile, one that’s twisted enough where she can tell it isn’t real.

She stops looking at him, doesn’t smile back. “I have a balcony - as long as it doesn’t rain, you can stay up there. And if it does rain, I can bring you in. My parents probably won’t keep a whole lot of tabs on me. I think it’ll be okay, as long as we don’t take too many risks.”

“That’d be great.”

She offers the box of pastries. “Want some? These are from yesterday, so they’re not fresh and we can’t sell them, but they’re still perfectly good to eat. It’s kind of a waste, but that’s the integrity of a baker.”

“Hey, free food is free food. I will take any food freely given, even if it’s poison, because that’s not the worst way to go down. I mean, if I’m going to die, I’m going to at least die on a full stomach.”

“That’s the way to do it,” she replies. “Most poisons are pretty painful, but hey.”

“At least your stomach’s full,” they both say together, and then burst into laughter.

The rest of their breakfast is filled with meaningless conversation and eating. But eventually, they polish off the last of the pastries, and they’re left with nothing but to go back.

* * *

Along the way back, though, Marinette leads Chat through the streets. She doesn’t take his hand and drag him along - no, she doesn’t even consider it,  _ shut up brain,  _ she doesn't want to hold Chat’s hand at all…

They go through the streets together. She looks back fairly often throughout the walk - they can’t really talk, it’s too loud around them and they can’t hear each other that much.

But one time she looks back -- and Chat has disappeared among the crowd. She can’t see his black suit anywhere, she can’t see the shadow against the crowd.

However, she can hear someone yelling, calling out, “Chat Noir!” An uproar of yelling follows as people run from him.

The city/palace guards arrive quickly. There’s a crowd gathered, Marinette a part of it.

Chat looks right at her as he’s forced to his knees and shackled, pleading.

But she can’t do anything. Too many people. She doubts she’d survive if she went, because the guards would kill her for trying. They’d kill anyone that tried, and she doesn’t want to die. Not today. She can rescue him later, when she has a plan.

As he gets turned around, she sees his hands moving towards each other as he moved to take off the ring. It fell to the ground, and Chat was no longer Chat, but Adrien Agreste stood in front of the crowd, head held high defiantly against the guards.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felix's Interlude.
> 
> Chloe and Felix hold onto each other, like they have from the start - even with Adrien there and the future uncertain, the three of them always held onto each other. Adrien isn’t here anymore, and neither are any of his other family members. A few months, and all of it’s been taken away by a startling series of events.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the perfect time to go in a break from the plot. It's an answer to yesterday's cliffhanger - perhaps not the one you imagined, but we'll get there.

Coronation preparations have been keeping Félix busy for a long time. Despite the fact that Chloé’s the one actually receiving the crown, Félix has been trained for a long time in the inner workings of royalty, so he’s been left to do most of the organizing while she learns.

It’s been stressful, but they hold onto each other.

He helps her where he can in her studies, and she helps him in sweet-talking some of the representatives into having their rulers show up.

They hold onto each other, like they have from the start - even with Adrien there and the future uncertain, the three of them always held onto each other. Adrien isn’t here anymore, and neither are any of his other family members. A few months, and all of it’s been taken away by a startling series of events.

“Chlo,” he whispers as she sits next to him at a courtyard bench. He feels her tremble a bit. Something is wrong, and he needs to be there to support her. “Chloé, you need to breathe. In and out.”

She takes a deep breath, the shaking calmed a bit.. “Okay. There’s some bad news, and I told the guards not to tell you, because I wanted to tell you myself. You wouldn’t…like it.”

“So, you purposefully held back information from me so you could tell me it yourself. Is it about you and me?”

She sighs. “Fe, it’s probably not what you’re thinking. The news has to do with you and I, but not our relationship. Something else - family.”

Neither of them have much of a family left. Andre and Audrey are both parents that had no idea what to do with a child, and so Félix has been trying to help Chloé drift away from them - but her father pushed her away, she attached to Audrey, and unhealthily worships her. It’s gotten better since their marriage, but there are still relapses, especially in bad times. Recovery is never complete. And everyone in his family is dead, except Chloé. But that’s different.

“You are starting to scare me, love.” Because his family is dead. Unless Andre or Audrey died, there’s no reason for her to be the one delivering the news. And even if one of them were dead, it wouldn’t matter that much that she would personally approach him while she’s supposed to be getting tutored. Chloé takes being queen surprisingly seriously, for what one may expect based on her childhood.

“It’s…about Adrien.”

“Isn’t he dead?” Felix is so stunned, he lets the contraction bleed into his speech.

“Apparently he isn’t. Chat Noir was spotted today in the capital - that must have been the border disturbance yesterday - and then he got captured by the guards, and then something magic-related happened, and Adrien was there instead of Chat Noir. I don’t know whether Chat Noir is actually Adrien, or if something else weird happened.”

“Was there a ring involved?”

“They picked up a ring from the scene of the capture. Adrien’s still in the dungeon for questioning. I don’t think they’ll press any charges, but…”

Félix glares - not at Chloé, at the ground, “If they do, I  _ am _ the future king. I will pardon him.” Chat Noir has apparently done unspeakable things, but there’s no  _ proof.  _ Everyone thinks Chat set the Agreste Mansion Fire, because he surfaced right after, but if Chat is Adrien, then it makes sense that Chat would emerge right afterwards. And all the other heinous things without proof? Adrien wouldn’t have done anything awful. He couldn’t hurt a fly. He wouldn’t kill his father.

Emilie, on the other hand? More believable. He never really knew Aunt Emilie well enough to say.

“And then he’ll flee again, and we won’t know what happened to Aunt Emilie and Uncle Gabriel.”

“I do not wish to know what happened to Uncle Gabriel. He was a horrible person and good riddance.” Félix’s anger has a tendency to be cold, not hot, and his words grow deader as he speaks. She does have a point, and he does want to know what happened.“Whether Emilie, Adrien, or someone else sat that fire, they deserve to be rewarded. Even if it did kill Uncle Gabriel.”

“I didn’t exactly like Uncle Gabriel, but we don’t speak ill of the dead, Fe. Mother and him were friends; I tend to trust her judgement.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t, love. We don’t know the circumstances of Emilie, Gabriel, and Adrien, but we do know something happened. And that drove Adrien to become Chat, Emilie to death - or perhaps not, and Gabriel to going up in flames.”

“I- Félix.” She gets up, and walks away.

He knows when to chase her, and when to not.

This is not one of those times.

* * *

They fall back together in their chamber that night, in the bed where they sleep together.

“I know my mother has been a source of discourse between us for a long time. I know you think she was not a good parent, but I do not think so. I acknowledge your opinion and respectfully disagree.” Her back is turned on his as he lays flat on the bed.

“Good job on the language,” he says, starting off. “I cannot say that I am not worried about you, Chloé. I can also move past today’s disagreement into the future.”

“Acceptable.” She rolls over to also rest on her back, and they find each other and fingers intertwine.

“I think Chat is Adrien - the ring is something I gave him, part of a spell I taught him. It is a binding of one object to another, but in a different way, where when a catchphrase is activated, the ring and what it is bound to are separated and put onto the bearer. It does not have to be a ring - there are a lot of other things, too. But that was something I taught him - it’s not an enchantment any magic school teaches.”

“They also want you to verify his identity,” she says softly.

“Then I will. Tomorrow, my love.” He turns his head to kiss her cheek, and still holding hands, fall asleep together.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Thank you,” she says, not letting any shock show at this point. “Adrien will soon be dead. Nobody will ever know about this deal.”
> 
> “You should best hope, miss Multimouse. If you fail, the consequences are dire. And now that you know who I am, I am perhaps in even more danger.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now featuring enough content in this chapter to add Kim to the character tags.
> 
> There's another character that I will not be putting in the tags, because it gives too much away of the story.

Marinette waits until nightfall to sneak out again, sneaking out from her balcony and dropping into the alleyway below with ease. It’s been something she was doing since she was thirteen, two years of practiced expertise between her and the ground. The fall is easy. She has the pouch with her, the device within ready to break. She’ll communicate with this stranger again that hired her for information.

Well, she has that information. At whatever cost to her integrity.

She sneaks out to the wall, climbing the fence and leaping over to the edge of the wall, listening for where a guard perhaps has fallen asleep.

Marinette drops off the wall where the guard has fallen asleep. She has her papers back with her in her bag with the pouch, and that’s all. Other than that, a single dagger, and that’s easily hidden.

She sneaks to a more hidden area in the surroundings, and takes out the device.

She shatters it on the ground. Magic releases from the broken shards, and the stranger appears in front of her. The stranger has a device similar to hers somewhere that will inform them when she breaks it for response.

“So. Who is Chat Noir?” the stranger asks.

“Chat Noir,” she says, “is Adrien Agreste.”

“Prince Adrien, eh? I thought he died in that fire.” The stranger seems to have a lot of malice towards Adrien, from the anger in their voice. “I may just have to personally interfere, miss Multimouse. Have you found out his identity through covert means?”

“The entire capital probably knows by now. He revealed in front of a whole crowd, and news carries. He’s being detained in the palace for at least the night.” She keeps her voice purposefully level and detached - no need to reveal too much emotion at this point.

“Okay, so this will be much harder. I said that I would tell you to kill or not at this point, and now that I know? I need Adrien to die. Preferably soon.”

“Alright.” She feels a certain determination inside her, but something else that she can’t place at this point, too. “But I need extra, because infiltrating the palace takes more than I was prepared for. And I’ll need to do that to kill him, stranger.”

“I cannot provide you with any more funds besides the follow-up payment we agreed to later, but I can provide you with information.”

“And what information is worth this price?”

The stranger - the magical conjugate of them - takes off their veil, and reveals someone who looks just like the queen.

Emilie Agreste.

“Thank you,” she says, not letting any shock show at this point. Emilie will not shake her. “Adrien will soon be dead. Nobody will ever know about this deal.”

“You should best hope, miss Multimouse. If you fail, the consequences are dire. And now that you know who I am, I am perhaps in even more danger.”

Emilie disappears, and the magic is gone.

Marinette buries the shards of the object, and climbs into the tree for the night.

She’ll think about it all tomorrow.

* * *

The thing that wakes her is the feeling of falling.

This is what she gets for sleeping in a tree and forgetting to tie herself in.

She lands flat on her back, weight spread to reduce the impact, head lifted to prevent anything bad. The jolt of landing flows through her, but knowing _how_ to fall is something she could probably remember in her sleep.

At least she didn’t have to this time.

She gets up off the ground.

_How am I going to get back into the city? Especially at this point. I can ask Kim, but I don’t know if he’ll be stationed here._

She has her papers. She presents them to the guard, nothing guarded, nothing kept secret.

They let her in, seeing that she’s already been allowed to pass through once.

* * *

As she walks through the city, the events of yesterday come back to her in waves.

_Chat’s expression sends a plea to her, his gaze lingering for longer than it should._

_The hands move together in their shackles, and the ring drops to the ground._

_Adrien Agreste stands in shackles instead of Chat Noir._

_Chat Noir is Adrien Agreste._

_Marinette flees away after the guards shoo the crowd off, going back home to mull it over. They’ve been lying to each other since they met - and they’ve known it, too. But Marinette never knew how game-changing the truth would be, how much the lies concealed. Marinette has been more honest, it turns out, than Chat._

She draws up a mental “information known” list.

_Chat Noir is Adrien Agreste. Adrien is currently in the dungeon. The person who hired me is Princess Emilie Agreste, sister of the queen and Adrien’s mother. Adrien’s mother wants him dead._

And the things she doesn’t know.

_Why did Adrien become Chat Noir?_

The answer is kind of obvious, once she thinks about it. To conceal that there were no survivors of the Agreste Mansion Fire, to conceal that so the arsonist wouldn’t come after Adrien. The goal of the fire could’ve been straight destruction or humiliation, but now that she’s thinking about it, it’s much more likely that whoever it was wanted Adrien and Gabriel both dead.

_Why does Emilie want Adrien dead?_

It all goes back to that fire. It all goes back to Emilie, Gabriel, and Adrien.

A theory brews in Marinette’s head. Emilie started the fire to get rid of Gabriel and Adrien, and probably suspected that Adrien was Chat. If it wasn’t Adrien, she wouldn’t want him dead.

_Does she want to kill Chat?_

The answer is obvious: no. But she can’t disobey the person that hired her. Part of her integrity as an assassin is knowing when to pull out of a job, and how to keep promises. She has promised to follow orders once the identity of Chat Noir was discovered. Their friendship must come to a tragic end and a betrayal, but she knew that there would always be a chance that she would have to kill him. (And she got close anyways. And she chose his friendship.)

Marinette _has_ to betray Chat. There’s simply no other way to do it.

* * *

There’s one more question Marinette hasn’t asked herself, and that’s because the answer terrifies her.

It’s a question that will make it harder to betray Chat, in the end, and she _needs_ to betray Chat. She’s getting paid to betray Chat, and her honesty and integrity is at stake.

No matter how much she hates the idea, she won’t touch the reason why. She never should’ve gotten so close to Chat in the first place.

No. Not Chat.

Not the person she’s gotten to know over the past week. That’s not who he really is. Chat Noir is truly Adrien Agreste, and she should start thinking of him as such.

_Adrien_ is who she needs to rescue before turning on him. And she _will_ turn on him afterwards, after doing so much.

But first: rescue. She’ll have to talk to Kim.

* * *

She folds up a little bird. The paper’s on her nightstand, just the right size. As she folds, she whispers the spell to contain the message. _“Ruetnahc uaesio, reyovne,”_ she says to complete the phrases. The entire spell is a lot longer: _Songbird, sing your song. Songbird, carry my words. Songbird, send._ And then the message. “Kim, meet me at the library when you get off your shift. I’ll be there for most of the day. See you soon.” And then the person to deliver to. _“Reubirtsid a_ Le Chien Kim.”

She blows a breath of life into the paper bird - technically, it doesn’t need it, because it’ll start flying anyways, but she likes taking the initiative and giving it some direction. It flutters out her window, and hopefully, to Kim.

Message birds are a common method of mail, for short messages. Longer messages are typically done through the actual post. She’s been practicing folding message birds for a long time - it’s a moderately complex spell with a lot of components, but very useful, so it’s one of the first taught. Besides, the translation is easy to memorize. Translating it to the language of spells is a little harder, but she memorized it after a while.

It’s only after she can’t see the bird that she realizes it’s the paper from the bird that Chat sent her when they first arrived in the city.

* * *

The library is one of the most important parts of the capital. There are always students there, learning about magic, and there are people there too - the library always has someone in it besides the librarians.

Kim is already there when she arrives, proving that maybe he was already off his shift at the time - or maybe he was at the palace, it normally doesn't take long.

“What do you need?” he asks, because that message was not an “ask-to-catch-up” message.

“I need a way into the palace grounds.” It’s a favor, and one he shouldn’t grant, but she hopes he will anyways.

“Why?” he asks. Genuine confusion shows on his face.

“I want to break out Chat Noir - Adrien.”

“Wait.” The realization suddenly crosses his mind. “You were the person that helped him across the walls the other day, and the person he was staring at in the crowd.”

“You don’t have to say it so _loud!”_ she hisses.

“Tell me why I shouldn’t turn you in _right this second,_ Marinette.”

“Chat hasn’t done anything besides stealing the occasional loaf of bread and being a little bit annoying. Nothing he’s done deserves a stay in the palace dungeons. Perhaps some community service time, perhaps some rehabilitation, perhaps a proper family. But he hasn’t done anything that’d get him in that much trouble and that bad of a reputation. Most of it’s just unsubstantiated rumors. And it’d be wrong to charge someone on unsubstantiated rumors.”

“Yeah. I know. But you and I have very different perspectives on the law. I’ve been trained to enforce the law for a few years now. You’ve been training for most of your life to disobey it.”

Kim is one of five people that know she’s an assassin, and the only one who isn’t related to her by blood.

“So don’t do the _legal_ thing, do the morally correct one. I mean, most laws are morally correct, but not all of them.”

“I can get you on the grounds. It’s up to you from there, Marinette.”

Kim still looks uneasy about betraying his job, but she’s turned him. It’s a victory - for her, for now. They both know how much of a risk he’s taking on this, even just sneaking her into the grounds would be enough to get him fired.

But Marinette won’t get caught. And she won’t reveal anything, not even at her last breath.

* * *

_“Rucsbo,”_ she says, making herself invisible in front of him.

“Alright,” he says. “Let’s go.” The walk won’t take very long at all - it didn’t take long for him, and they both walk pretty fast.

“Thanks again for doing this, Kim,” she whispers, invisibly lurking behind him. The barracks are on the palace grounds, and they’re walking back towards the gate. Kim rarely stays in the barracks, but he still has things there, including the change into his uniform he needs for his border shift.

They walk towards the gate. He doesn’t acknowledge her, because it’s crazy to talk to thin air.

Kim talks to the guards.

“Hey, I know I just got off my shift, but could you let me back in? I’m doing a border shift overnight and I’m going to take a nap, change into my uniform - in the barracks, you know how it is.” The guards are both a little bored and sympathetically nod, opening the gate to let him in. Marinette darts in quickly behind him. They’re in.

They head towards the barracks, but he pulls her aside from one of the paths.

“I’m not going to ask for any real payment, but I’m not going to let this be a complete favor. You owe me something in return, and I’m going to take it now, Mari. I have one question for you, and I need you to answer me as truthfully as you can.”

She nods. “On my honor as a Cheng assassin, I will tell you the truth.” It can’t be too difficult of a question.

“Are you in love with Chat Noir?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After tomorrow, I have reached the end of my prewritten chapters. Updates will probably be a little more sporadic, but I'll try my best to keep them pretty close together.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette won’t linger on the words. But when she looks over at Adrien to the sound of crumpling paper, his cheeks are flushed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I pushed the outline more. I still don't know how many more chapters it'll be, but there's definitely one more chapter in the works, and an interlude after that. Pushes the count to eight. And I definitely can't complete the plot in just one chapter and an epilogue.

She stands still for a second.

 _Is_ she in love with Adrien?

She thinks back to the travel through the forest, the warmth at his concern, the way their meeting at the statue felt, the way she felt pain when he was captured…It all seems to point to the same thing. That she at least thinks of Chat romantically, though she doesn’t think it’s quite to the point of love.

She feels a little deceived for the whole “actually Adrien” thing, but come to think of it, that whole backstory was a huge hint. And she’s been lying to him, too. She’s been transparent but lying, and he could figure it out.

“I think,” she replies, “it isn’t to that point quite yet, but I could be in love with him. The setup is there.”

The words officially shatter the one thing she’s tried to hold in for so long, that she’s been trying to conceal from herself.

But she can’t deny it anymore.

“Marinette.” He glares at her. “I know I never had to protect you, but I’d still like to know for sure that you were safe.”

“I won’t get caught, Kim,” she replies, staring straight into his eyes with what she _hopes_ is a stony glare.

“...Not just in that way, Mari. Good luck.”

And with that, he heads towards the place he’s supposed to be, and she slinks towards the castle.

* * *

The castle is looming now that she’s closer to it. Maybe she should’ve thought this through a bit more, but she slinks in through an open window, not disturbing the pie sitting in it. She pads around the castle with ease, and sees Prince Félix, escorted by two guards.

“Either it’s Adrien, or a _very_ convincing illusion spell, your Highness,” she hears one of them say.

They’re going to see Adrien. Marinette can work with that.

She follows from a blindspot, directly behind the trio. Down a couple flights of stone stairs. Their footsteps echo on the steps, but Marinette has magical silent feet right now. She’ll be fine.

Félix slows down as they approach Adrien’s cell.

Adrien looks dejected. Not at all like the Chat she knows, and maybe not like the Adrien Félix knew - before the Agreste Mansion Fire.

But who knows now? She slips into the cell behind Félix. Adrien is shackled, and not very dangerous anyways. The shackles are probably anti-magic anyways, restrict him from performing any spells that would let him escape.

“Félix,” Adrien whispered. He looks around wildly.

“I am here to ask you a few questions to verify your identity.” He goes _right_ by the elephant in the room. “First, why didn’t you attend any magical academies?”

“Because of Father,” Adrien answers. “He was concerned for my safety.” Adrien sounds more detached than ever, like he’s just trying to get through this.

“Okay. Who did Chloé want to marry initially?”

“She had a crush on me for a while.” He looks a little disgusted by that, and Marinette has to stifle a snort in order to not get discovered.

“Adrien,” Félix says softly. “What happened?”

“I should’ve left with Mom when I could’ve. I don’t know who set the fire, just a little glad I didn’t die like Father did.”

And now for the regret. Because he _is_ going to die like his father. It’s Marinette who has to make certain of it.

She doesn’t want to. It probably isn't worth it. But she _needs_ to. She’s a daughter of the Cheng family, and Cheng daughters don’t abandon their duty.

But Adrien’s words about how he should’ve left with his mother...something suspicious is _definitely_ going on, and it all goes back to that fire.

Félix sighs. “And now we are all here.” He dismisses the guards. “I did not wish to be watched for this.”

“Congratulations, Felix. And my condolences. When I heard that Aunt Amelie was dead, I was devastated. I cannot imagine how you must feel.”

He’s slipping into the same formal speech as Felix. Must be some sort of royalty thing.

“I still think we’re being watched. _Retnom.”_ The spell strips the spells from her, but she’s pretty well disguised. They won’t connect her to Marinette.

Adrien looks stunned to see her. “Minimouse, what are you doing here?”

“I was _going_ to break you out,” she says, at the same time as Felix’s, “You _know_ her?!”

Félix pauses, almost as if considering her words. “You did not need to. I was planning on pardoning you, Adrien. If it was actually you, that is. I hope Minimouse is not your actual name, dear stranger.”

“You can call me Multimouse, your majesty.” She bows. It _is_ the upcoming king, after all.

“So, Multimouse, what is your association with my cousin where you were going to break him out?”

“We were travelling companions to get here.” She doesn’t divulge all of it. “I found him back in my home village on the day that Queen Amelie’s death was announced. When Ch- _Adrien_ was arrested, I knew I had to help bail him out. I knew I could get in a lot of trouble.”

“Well, your intentions are good. Breaking into the palace is not good, but I will refrain, as I am planning on pardoning and releasing Adrien anyways.”

“Thank you, Félix.” Adrien speaks, for the first time since Marinette was revealed. “You have me. Whenever you need me.”

Félix unlocks the shackles, using a key he has in his pocket. “You are both free to go. Though, I would suggest that you go back to invisibility.” The last comment’s directed at her.

She casts the spell, and shimmers out of sight again. Felix is first out of the cell. She’s last, following the two cousins.

“Will you be at the coronation?”

“That’s why I came, Fe.” A nickname. One that Felix seems to not have heard in a long time.

“Did- Was she telling the truth?”

“Yeah. She was,” Adrien answers. “You made the right decision, Félix. We can both be a little impulsive, but she’s not a bad person.”

“I can see the impulsiveness. For you to grow attached to someone so quickly…”

Adrien cuts him off hurriedly. “Do you have the ring?”

“One of the guards probably does. I’m surprised the enchantment hasn’t worn off yet.”

“You created a _brilliant_ spell. I made a few additions, including a little disguise charm so that anyone who saw my costume wouldn’t be able to connect it with me, because it does look like me.”

She certainly wouldn’t have figured it out without the public reveal.

Does she want to have figured it out? Did she want things to change? Did she want to know the answer she was getting paid for?

With the answers, she has to kill him. Adrien must die, at the cost of her soul and the only person she’s ever wanted romantically.

The two keep on whispering, unaware of her musings.

* * *

When they get out of the castle, it’s still daytime. She’ll have to wait, then. Because killing in broad daylight is a good way to get yourself taken into custody, no matter what the circumstances are.

Even now, after the reveal, public opinion on Chat Noir is still mixed. A particularly radical Chat-hater could’ve done the deed.

She won’t let it be known that it was her, a killer-for-hire. Nothing left behind. Even if his body _is_ found, it won’t be left to her. She’ll leave it in a pigpen or something, beneath the other slop that the pigs eat. They’ll devour him.

And Marinette will be free.

She almost heads in the direction of the barracks to check on Kim, but he can always send her a songbird if necessary, and she can do the same.

“This is where I must leave. Coronation preparations still beckon.”

“I’ll see you there, then.” Adrien gives Félix a hug. She smiles watching them - from Chat’s story back in the forest, Adrien didn’t have a lot of family in the first place. Felix is probably one of the only people he has left.

Marinette sneaks out the gate behind Adrien. No encounters with guards she knows, nothing. Just a simple come-and-go, just like most of the other citizens.

She pulls him aside.

 _“Relever,”_ she says. “Okay, good to go. I just think it’d be weird.”

“I mean, no more weird than walking around with a random person in all gray.”

She takes off the mask and puts her hair down from its buns. “Better?” She smirks.

“I’ve uh, never seen you with your hair down, before.” He stutters a bit, but she gets it.

“I don’t wear it down very often. It feels kind of weird, especially since I have it up literally all the time.” She starts tying her hair back up into the pigtails she wears as Marinette.

“Maybe you should. More often, that is - not that your hair doesn’t look good tied up it just-” He’s rambling. She rolls her eyes and cuts him off.

“I got that, Chat.” The moniker rolls off her tongue by accident, and she freezes, but he’s smiling. Clearly, she’s gotten something right. First time in a while.

“Can I stay at your place?” he asks.

“Well, that’s not up to me. That’s up to my parents. I don’t know.” Probably not, but she doesn’t want to say that. It’s because he’s a guy that it’ll be decided, but maybe they’ll have some compassion for him.

A paper songbird flutters over to them, struggling with the weight of something, swooping and fluttering wildly, trying to stay in the air. She catches it before it crashes, and it’s still trying to leave her hands.

She peers inside it. The ring. “I think this is for you.” She passes the bird unceremoniously to him. He catches her throw, and sees the ring inside. Adrien takes the ring out and puts it back on, seemingly more at ease with it on.

“Probably Félix. Let’s hear what he has to say.”

He unfolds the songbird.

“Adrien. The guards gave me your ring after I asked for it. I figured that I may as well send it to you while I still had it at the front of my mind. I hope you will not have to use it, but I decided to give it back to you. Just in case. And...I hope you can make it to the coronation without incident. I would like to see you again, and I’m sure Chloe would, too. And as for your companion, I hope that you stay with her. She seems like a good balance for you.”

Marinette won’t linger on the words. But when she looks over at Adrien to the sound of crumpling paper, his cheeks are flushed.

* * *

They walk back to the bakery with surprisingly little fanfare.

When Adrien says _“Resrepsid,”_ the universal reversal spell, she realizes why. He must have used a spell to divert attention from them.

Inventing spells is difficult - she has a few in her arsenal, basic ones that she uses for survival and surveillance, but she doesn’t invent spells very often. If you translate the task incorrectly, the spell could be catastrophic. The more complicated spell, the higher chances there are that something will go wrong. And there are lots of magicians that have been killed through saying the wrong words. Many more have been injured, or have had their property destroyed. A spell for diverting attention doesn’t exist as far as she’s aware, and it would be incredibly useful. Though she suspects it would be a lot more useful for public figures, including Adrien.

“What’s that spell you did?”

“No attention. Simple, and one of the first spells I learned from my tutor.”

“Seems pretty practical for you.”

“Yeah. But you have to keep your concentration on the spell, or else it won’t work. You constantly have to divert energy into it to keep the shield up, or else it falls apart.”

Oh, so it’s one of _those_ spells. Long-term spells typically require some energy from the caster to hold them together. There are multiple spells for invisibility - she uses the one that doesn’t require energy from her because she has to stay that way for long periods of time. The price is that if someone knows to look for her, they will find her. True invisibility is exhausting.

Either way, they walk into the bakery before anyone on the street notices either of them.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confessions are made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where things get intense. Sorry it took a while.
> 
> This chapter is partially filler, partially worldbuilding, and partially plot. It gets intense fast.
> 
> TW for injuries, discussing of killing, and implied familial abuse.

She sees her father’s face go pale when he sees them. She quickly drags Adrien up to her room.

“You’ll need to talk to them eventually,” he notes.

“Well, I’m going to put that off until the bakery closes.” She sits on her bed. “They signed up for this when they had me.”

“What, you bringing someone home?”

She looks over at him. “What, no. Just...I mean, doing things of dubious legality, you meet some dubious people.”

“And you don’t keep your profession a secret from the family?” He raises an eyebrow, and she almost laughs at how ridiculous he looks like that.

“I...have to tell you something. You technically spilled your secrets, so now it’s my turn.”

“Minimouse, you’re scaring me. Is something...seriously wrong?”

“Not like, whatever you’re thinking. My full name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and yes, those Chengs.”

“Like, the assassins, right?”

She smacks his head. Lightly, but enough to get the point across. “Yes, the assassins. I’m one of them. My mom gave it up for my father before I was born and started this bakery, but I was trained by my grandparents to take up the mantle of being a daughter in the Cheng family.”

“So that’s the slightly illegal thing you do for a living?”

“Well. More than slightly. But yeah. People hire me for information, or to straight-up take someone down. Actually, I received a job right before we left.”

“What was the job?”

“They want me to take out someone before the coronation. The, uh, head Mage.” Lying comes too easily, again. She’s been dishonest before, but she still hates every second of it. Not saying the truth is different from actively trying to hide it.

“Not Felix or Chloe? I’m surprised.”

“I’m not. Who’d want a fifteen year old to take out the future king and queen? That’s ridiculous.” She hides the truth from him, yet again. And she’s surprised about how positively he’s reacted - if someone had told  _ her  _ that they were an assassin she would be suspicious.

Maybe that’s because she’s an assassin herself.

“When you put it like that, perhaps it isn’t as surprising. I mean, I wouldn’t hire a teenager to kill someone I wanted dead.”

“I wouldn’t either, but that’s just how it is. The fact that I’m part of a legacy helps my reputation, though.” She flops backwards, now lying fully on the bed. “And the fact that I was caught breaking you out actually  _ helps.  _ Now suspicion is officially directly away from me, because I already got caught and they don’t think I’d have the audacity.”

“I might get  _ more  _ suspicious, if we’re being honest.”

“Maybe we just have different perspectives on this. It’s my career, I guess.”

Technically, he’s right. “I spent a year training and getting small jobs and building myself up, with the help of my mother’s parents.”

“A year…Did you  _ know  _ Chloe?”

“I did.” She wrinkles her nose. “I don’t really like thinking about it, because she was mean and closed off and rude to literally everyone. And she had some sort of thing against me, because I was better than her at magic.”

“Yeah, Chloe isn’t the strongest mage.” But Adrien smiles fondly, and she remembers. But Chloe’s married now, and is the future queen. “I remember her telling me that she used to like me, but that she had moved on to someone from her school. Those things don’t really line up.”

“She had...almost a sidekick. Sabrina was the only person she got along with, but she practically enslaved Sabrina and everyone knew it. One of my classmates even wanted to investigate whether any compulsion had been used on her, but Chloe wasn’t to the level of power required.”

Besides - and this remains unspoken - any self-respecting magic user wouldn’t let themself fall under compulsion. Or use it.

Compulsion is dark and poisonous to the user. It corrupts the user and the person who is compulsed. All magic has a source, internal in people born with the spark, and external for magic users without if they so choose. If a person is born with the spark, there is still a limit to how many spells can be used, but a good night’s sleep after draining will bring it back up.

But compulsion is different. Forcing someone to do as you want is evil. It doesn’t drain the magical energy terribly, but it permanently reduces the level of power a person possesses permanently.

“It wouldn’t be worth it. She always wanted more magical power, wanted to be better. I don’t know if it was actually something she wanted, or just something she  _ wanted  _ to want. Something her parents wanted for her.”

“I have no idea what her life was like, but she made the lives of my classmates and myself a lot worse. I think she could have matured since our academy days - I know I certainly have - so I won’t be too quick to pass judgement on her as the queen. I think I might have when the news was first announced, but that was more shock than anything.”

“I still think she’ll do well. She and Felix would go well together - they’re really similar. She tends to be a bit more quick-to-anger than he is, but they go together. They’re both ambitious in different ways.”

* * *

Adrien and Marinette chat the hours away, going from topic to topic with an ease that Marinette remembers from their journey. It’s comfortable, and she’s glad that they’re back to being at ease with each other.

“Marinette!” she hears her mother call. “Time for dinner!”

“Well, they know we’re here.” He looks at her in a way that she both wants and hates. “May as well.”

She takes a deep breath. “Alright. My parents are going to be a little intense about all this. Be prepared.” She’s looking at him, and he’s looking up at the ceiling. She stands up, and offers out a hand if he needs it. He takes it (with the wrong hand), and gets up.

Adrien doesn’t let go once he’s up. She does, but slowly, taking the feeling of his skin with her. “We’re not paramours.” She tries not to be too wistful, or too angry. It comes out hollow to her own ears.

They head down the stairs in silence, Marinette leading the way to the dining room. Both her parents are waiting for them.

“Who’s this, Marinette?”

They probably already know. It’s just a pretense.

“I’m Adrien,” he answers, putting on a smile and stepping up to shake the hands of her parents. She rolls her eyes, but they introduce themselves as well, and she sits down for dinner.

_ “爸爸，吃。妈妈，吃。大家一起吃!” _

Her mother smiles, and her father starts digging in.

“What was that?” Adrien whispers.

“Family tradition,” she answers. “It’s one of the primary languages of the Eastern Territories - the territory where my family is from. There are a few primary languages - I don’t speak very much of this one. It basically just starts the meal.”

“Oh, yeah, okay. I know one of them, too - Northern, Southern or Island?”

“Northern.” The words are firm. No more about this one, it just makes her feel worse.

“Oh. I learned Island when I was younger, and a dialect of Northern.”

A dialect, huh? She wonders which one. They’re all written the same, but still.

“What are you two whispering about?” Her father affectionately smiles at them. “Anything we should know about?”

“Just explaining to Adrien.”

“Adrien, what do you do?” The question comes from her mother - warm, but there’s a certain edge to it.

“Um.” Adrien scratches behind his neck. “I was kind of just wandering around - I’m fifteen, I never had much of a chance to get an apprenticeship. I’m born with the spark, so I guess I have that going for me, but other than that I don’t really have a purpose right now.”

“Do you have any idea what you want to do with your life in the future?” she further inquires.

“I don’t. I kind of grew up pretty sheltered, being raised for diplomatic purposes. But I have no idea if I’ll go into diplomacy or not. I might.”

“Maman,” she warns, glaring.

“Marinette, we’re just concerned for your safety,” her father replies. “After all…”

She shrinks down into her seat, feeling embarrassed.

“I am not courting your daughter at this moment in time. We’re friends.”

“I need to talk to you after dinner, Maman,” she says, straightening back up and continuing to eat.

She nods, and they all go back to eating.

* * *

Her father and Adrien go off to talk in the living room to leave her and her mother alone.

“So. What did you want to talk about?”

“Adrien’s my mark. I have to kill him,” she says.

“You act like you want to court him. And by the way he defended that you both weren’t courting, he might too.”

“I hope he doesn’t.” Marinette looks at her mother. “For his own sake.”

“Feelings are messy, Marinette. You should do your job, but keep this in mind. We don’t generally do a lot of asking right versus wrong because the job normally doesn’t involve it, but whoever wants to kill Adrien might have something else going on. Look into what’s going on.”

“It was his mother who hired him.”

“There’s something fishy going on. I would suggest waiting.”

“I don’t want to wait. What if he starts reciprocating? What if something bad did actually happen that Adrien is to blame for?” She starts pacing. “I know I should learn all the details before I attempt this kill, but I don’t know who I would learn it from. I read the newspapers when they came out, and the only person with more information that would still be alive is  _ her.” _

“Go to the source if you can. If you can’t…go back to the archives, take a look back at it. This job is probably a lot more complicated than it seems, my dear. Be careful.”

“I promise, Maman.” She stops pacing, and looks at her. “If Adrien wasn’t my mark…”

“I would absolutely give you two my blessing. I think you would have a good relationship with him.”

“Thank you.”

* * *

“What did you talk about?” he asks her, when she gets back up to her room. “Your father said that he’d prepare the guest room for me. That’s all we talked about.”

“We talked about this,” she says, taking out a knife. Her eyes start to water as she thinks about it. “I lied to you. I’m sorry, Adrien. It wasn’t the high mage.” She shoves him towards the wall. The look of fear in his eyes is almost enough to send her back.

“It was me,” he breathes.

She keeps him pinned to the wall.

“Marinette, please-”

It’s the first time he’s called her Marinette. It’s always been Minimouse, it’s never been her. It hits differently now that she’s noticed it.

“Please don’t kill me, Marinette.”

“I’m sorry,” she repeats. “I’m sorry.”

“Who asked you to?”

It comes out of left field.

“I can’t answer that for you.”

“Did Father survive the fire and ask you?” he spits. She pushes a little harder to keep him against the wall, and knees him in the area to keep him immobile. He lets out a shout, but the hand that isn’t actively pinning him to the wall goes to muffle the noise.

“It wasn’t your father. He’s dead, for sure. They found his bones in the ashes, according to all the newspaper articles.”

She can’t. She can’t see him like this. It’s a low blow, trying. And she can’t do it right now.

(Maybe not ever, her mind says. But she refuses to indulge it, because it is a part of her duty to do it.)

She lets go, steps away from the wall, puts away the dagger.

“I can’t right now. Go sleep in the guest chamber.” She feels like she’s about to either puke or burst into tears. Maybe both.

She helps him up off the ground. “That  _ hurts,  _ man.” Adrien groans.

She ignores that, and brings him to the door of her room. Maybe once he leaves, she’ll have some peace.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She knows where Emilie is. Now it’s time to find her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took so long. I promise the next one won't.
> 
> Chapter CWs: implied death/torture (in the form of a dream), mentions of death (Marinette is an assassin), and a minor accidental injury.

Marinette goes to bed after that, but can’t sleep. She hears Adrien from the room next door talking, and goes over to the wall to eavesdrop.

He’s casting the songbird spell. “... _Ruetnahc uaesio, stom sem etrop. Ruetnahc uaesio, reyovne._ Fe, maybe you were right about her. She…almost killed me. She might have, too, if I hadn’t asked who hired her. She couldn’t answer that. It wasn’t Father. I don’t want to hope for the worst, Fe, because she _didn’t,_ but I still can’t help but mistrust her. And I really thought that she liked me.” He barks out a laugh. “I thought she wanted me to court her. But I guess it’ll never happen, because she has to kill me.”

“ _Reubirtsid a_ Felix Graham de Vanily.”

 _I thought she wanted me to court her_ echoes in Marinette’s mind.

He casts for another one. “Too much to send in one songbird. Sorry. And I know the question you probably want to ask me is if I wanted to court her. I don’t know now. I said yes the first time you asked, but trying to kill me is a non-starter. I don’t know how to feel anymore.”

She relates to that. She doesn’t know how to feel, either. It felt like a bout of hysteria, brought on by fear of the consequences.

She needs to contact Emilie.

* * *

There’s no magical way to send a written message, and location spells are only available if you have something of the person that’s going to be located.

But she _does_ have something of Emilie’s.

She needs to find where she buried the shards of the communication device. That’s something of hers, as figurative as it may be. It’s time for her to leave the city again.

Kim’s at the gate, tending to the outbound. “You’re coming back in, right? Especially right now. You might have to wait a while.” He looks over at the line.

“Stop chatting up the girl,” the supervising officer warned.

“Alright. I’ll be on my way,” she says, and she goes to find the random tree.

She closes her eyes and breathes in. It’ll take a lot of focus to find the tree. The strap on her bag digs into her shoulder. The self-centering makes her see her memories. The memories come spinning back into her head, and she remembers the tree.

She approaches the tree, and digs between the roots to find that some of the shards were missing.

(Not all of them, thank goodness. There was one buried deep, deep down within the earth.)

She digs out the one remaining shard. It’s small - it must have broken off a bigger shard, or was small enough to be missed in an initial dig, especially if at night. “She clearly covered her tracks carefully...teleportation, or maybe she _is_ near here? That’d be a horrible idea, though.” She starts pacing, the piece in her hand.

“It wouldn’t make sense for her to be around here. She plotted too carefully to be found around here, there are too many people that come through here. So even if I cast the location spell, who says it’ll be a reasonable distance-- _ow!”_

She apparently had been clenching the piece in her hand too tightly - it cuts into her palm and there is blood. She takes the piece before too much blood can get on it, because it might distort the location spell if she isn’t careful. She sticks it in her bag. She can cast the location spell when she gets back into the city.

* * *

Back to her house she goes.

“Is Adrien still here?” she asks.

“No, he left earlier,” her mother answers.

“Of course he did,” she mutters.

It’s exactly what she would do, too. She wouldn’t stay with someone who tried to kill her, under any circumstances.

She goes up to her room.

* * *

Location spells are a one-time use spell, but one needs a few things for it. First of all, a world map. Second, an object that belongs to the person that’s being located. Third, an object to focus the spell through. The last two can often be the same object, but some materials work better than others as magical channels.

Yeah. Okay.

 _“Resilacol_ Emilie Agreste.” And it’s a simple spell, too. But everything else required makes it a pain in the neck. 

The object travels across the map and stands to point at a specific location on the map. She nabs a quill and marks an X over the location that the magic has indicated.

It’s time to pay a visit to Emilie Agreste. Or Graham de Vanily, was the divorce ever official? Is divorce even legal?

She knows where the princess is. Now it’s time to find her.

* * *

A songbird flits over to her. “I pardoned you earlier, but I can pardon you no more, Multimouse. If you shall flee you shall flee and I will not stop you, but you must not return to the capital. Unless there is something else I should know about, my cousin’s safety comes first,” the paper bird declares as she unfolds it in Felix’s voice. 

She whispers out the spell for a reply, folding it back up hastily as she does so. “I’m an assassin. As you could probably guess. And your aunt is the person who hired me. I’m going to track her down now for an explanation. I do not wish to kill Adrien. If I wanted him dead, he would never have gotten word to you in the first place. _Reburtsid a_ Felix Graham de Vanily.”

Songbird correspondence is casual, too easy. But she will have to take this journey slow.

(Only the most skilled can _actually_ teleport. It’s a very advanced skill with the potential to go _very_ wrong, and at fifteen, Marinette is not ready to have her legs be somewhere out there while she ends up accidentally staying - or something potentially more deadly.)

Even _projecting_ is easier. Actually, that might be a good idea - and that might be what Emilie did to find her. Emilie’s out in the depths of the countryside, and if Marinette has enough energy, she can project herself out there for a long time and try and find her, exactly.

A small town, out in the countryside of the kingdom named Aulas. She imagines it will be quaint.

And after the spells she’s used today, she probably won’t be able to self-project for very long.

She’ll take a nap. And then she’ll start the reconnaissance.

* * *

_She dreams of the fire and flames of hell, of punishment for what she’s done and tried to do. She’s not the type to usually have nightmares, and that grounds her. She finds herself about to be drawn and quartered._

_“For your crimes, you shall be executed.” A voice echoes in her head, but she can’t quite place it._

_Two corners are her parents. One corner is Adrien. The other is Chat Noir. (They’re one and the same, but the dream separates them - for some reason.)_

_As they all start to pull her apart, she’s tugged from the nap._

* * *

And she wakes up in her bed, panting. At least she didn’t die.

She’s heard that nobody ever dies in their own dreams, that they always wake up right before imminent doom. Maybe it’s true, but maybe someday she really will die in her dream. Either way, she doesn’t feel terribly well-rested, but she takes a moment to center herself. Her magical energy is high. She can do it.

* * *

She focuses on the location. She’s been to the village of Aulas before - it’s where her grandmother lived (for a bit - the constant rambler that she was). She envisions the village in her head, pictures it clearly. _“Retejorp.”_

Projection always just…feels weird. Doing it is a literal out-of-body experience. Her body back at the bakery is vulnerable to attack, which makes projection mostly just dangerous and rarely worth it. But it also isn’t worth the long journey, and the bakery is somewhere Marinette is safe from attack, in general.

She looks around her. She’s landed in a field, just outside of the village - someone’s farm. The grape fields grow around her, and she frowns. Wineries are _huge,_ and it’ll take her a bit to get out of the maze. She can’t see over the poles that the grapevines creep up, but the advantage of being a projection is a lack of corporeal form, so she can just…pass through them. She cuts through the field heading north, seeing where, exactly, she comes out. Passing through objects is weird, because having a corporeal form most of the time makes you think that you can’t pass through the objects, and something is wrong with the universe when you pass through them. She runs to avoid the feeling, runs with her eyes closed so it just feels like she’s running down a street or a path through the woods.

Eventually, she opens her eyes to scan her surroundings. The farmhouse ahead clearly holds some disconnect with the village.

Either Emilie decided to camoflauge herself within the citizens of the village, or she’s hiding somewhere on the outskirts like this. Either way, Marinette’s going to the village center. She’ll memorize the image of the town square, and she’ll make sure to land there next time she projects for more reconnaissance.

She hears the chatter of the townspeople, and walks into the town center. It’s comfortingly familiar. It looks a lot like Mirstone’s, and that helps her center herself a bit.

Buildings line the town center, where the roads converge. There are a few basic things - a bakery, a butcher, a few merchant stands selling things like cloth and spices, but all in all, it’s a familiar sight for Marinette. The local families running the stores are a bit different, and the fabrics are a bit different, but it’s pretty similar to sights she’s seen before.

That’ll make it easy to memorize for next time.

She looks around the square -- and realizes one crucial detail - she doesn’t _really_ know what Emilie looks like. Both times, Emilie used a veil. She _knows_ that Emilie looks a lot like the late Queen Amelie, but that isn’t very helpful.

A person passes through her, almost as if she’s a ghost. She shivers.

They can’t see her. A particularly sensitive magic user might be able to sense her if they walk through. The experience still feels weird for her, though, and she’s almost tempted to come back to herself.

But she’s here for a reason, so she’ll keep looking. She knows that Emilie is much taller than her - from their first meeting in the woods, she knows that much.

She tries to climb up to a roof, and then realizes: projection. Goes through most material objects.

Her surveillance continues through the entire village, exploring the little nooks and crannies she never got to with her grandmother. She finds herself fading as time passes, though. She’s running out of energy - and needs to undo the spell before the projection is unwillingly snapped, because that feels painful. Your consciousness gets forcibly shoved back into your body if you don’t gently undo it, and it hurts. 

_“Resrepsid.”_

* * *

She comes back to herself, jolting to see the familiar walls of her room - and a little paper songbird pecking at her arm.

The songbird’s paper looks expertly and cleanly folded.

It’ll keep bothering her if she doesn’t unfold it. So she carefully takes apart the folds, smoothing them out as she goes.

“Marinette,” she hears.

It’s _Chloe’s voice._ Chloe. “Marinette, please. I know we didn’t exactly part on the best of terms, but all I want to know is _why,_ Marinette.” Chloe seems distressed here. “I know everything you told Felix about Adrien. If it means anything to you, I’m sorry. I’m sorry about being mean to you. Just please don’t kill Adrien. _Please._ I know you said he’d already be dead if you really wanted him to be, but please don’t try again. There are three people left in my life that I trust - my mother, Adrien, and Felix. Please don’t take one of them. No matter what Aunt Emilie requested.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On the next chapter of castlefic: an interlude! Can you guess who?


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien's Interlude.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize that it took so long. I hope you haven't lost interest in this journey. I have a solid plan for the last few chapters.
> 
> I actually struggled with this chapter a lot - I wasn't quite sure what to do with it. At first it was going to be a Chloe interlude - more insight on her and Felix's relationship, as well as the message in the previous chapter. But it wasn't really working out, so I took it to the fanfic discord (link hopefully in end notes) and in the end, I gave Adrien a chapter. I think it was the right decision to be honest. Next chapter is back to our scheduled program with Marinette. I don't know when, but now that I have a better idea of how it's going to turn out, I can probably get the last few chapters out faster.
> 
> Enjoy seeing from the perspective of our dear catboy.

Marinette takes Adrien up to her room after she finishes talking to her mother. She looks a little...off. He’s been finished with her father for a bit, so it’s a little concerning.

They go up to her room.

“What did you talk about?” he asks her. Just out of concern. “Your father said that he’d prepare the guest room for me. That’s all we talked about.”

“We talked about this,” she says, taking out a knife. He backs away from her, terrified. Marinette looks on the verge of crying. “I lied to you. I’m sorry, Adrien. It wasn’t the high mage.” She shoves him towards the wall. All of a sudden he realizes--

“It was me,” he breathes.

She keeps him pinned to the wall.

“Marinette, please-”

It’s the first time he’s called her Marinette. It’s always been Minimouse. Him saying her given name feels a little strange, but good.

“Please don’t kill me, Marinette.”

“I’m sorry,” she repeats. “I’m sorry.”

“Who asked you to?” He has to know. Who wants him dead? He’ll find them. Because if someone wants him dead, they’ll have to kill him themself.

“I can’t answer that for you.” She seems colder than normal. One possibility comes to mind, above all else.

“Did Father survive the fire and ask you?” he spits. Father was never good to him. Life out in the wilderness has helped him to realize that. She pushes a little harder to keep him against the wall, and knees him in the area to keep him immobile. He lets out a shout, but the hand that isn’t actively pinning him to the wall goes to muffle the noise.

“It wasn’t your father. He’s dead, for sure. They found his bones in the ashes, according to all the newspaper articles.” He feels a bit relieved. At least it isn’t Father. But who else?

She lets go, steps away from the wall, puts away the dagger.

“I can’t right now. Go sleep in the guest chamber.” She helps him up off the ground. 

“That _hurts,_ man.” Adrien groans. It’s funny - but he thinks the situation could use some levity.

He walks awkwardly over to the guest room.

It’s hard to fall asleep that night, but somehow he manages a restless sleep.

* * *

He wakes up. The sun isn’t up yet, and he still feels exhausted and a little sore. He sneaks down quietly to grab something to eat. _“Transformer,”_ he says. The trigger word for the Chat Noir guise.

He needs it as a form of armor. It won’t actually protect him - but it distances him from Adrien. From being Marinette’s target. 

Marinette’s father - Tom, he remembers that he insisted - is downstairs working on the goods for sales today. He can sneak by. He’s totally snuck by worse than the father of someone who attempted to kill him… 

Do they know? Did they know that Marinette was going to kill him? If so, why encourage their courting?

Does he want to court Marinette anymore?

It’s hard to be in love with someone who wants you dead. It isn’t even really love. It hasn’t been long enough to be in love with her. He knows how to acknowledge it. He misses the simplicity of the woods, of just Multimouse and Chat Noir. But he did want a relationship with her.

He can’t, not until they can just be honest with each other.

But in order to be honest with her, they need to actually talk to each other again… 

He bumps into a corner.

Tom turns towards him. This is what he gets for not paying attention. He prays for a god, any god, any religion to smite him.

“Adrien! I didn’t realize you were awake.”

“I’m afraid that I have to go. I’m sorry. Tell Marinette that I left.” He takes off after the words spill out, blurring together.

“Wait-” He doesn’t hear what Tom has to say besides that as the door with its little tinkling bell shuts behind him.

* * *

He knows he’ll have to go back eventually. He doesn’t have the heart to steal his way around to live, but he can afford to starve for a few days. Adrien needs some time to think, most of all.

Think about all of it.

He heads to the square. The sun’s starting to rise - hasn’t peeked above the horizon yet. People will be coming over to socialize, some with various animals that need to graze - there aren’t a whole lot in the city, but some people keep goats or horses within the city.

He climbs the tree in the center to somewhere not easily visible from anywhere.

Marinette.

She didn’t seem like her heart was in it. She seemed more like she was trying not to cry, that she had a duty to do (Dupain- _Cheng_ \- she lied about her name, too). Most of all, she seemed desperate. Desperate for what? To put an end to his life? To end their game of lies? To have to not perform that act?

The Chengs are known for their reliability, above all else. Marinette wouldn’t want to break the chain. He understands the weight of a legacy like no one else. He can comprehend all the reasons why she would. But why would someone be targeting him? How would they know that is Chat Noir?

The fact that it’s not his father is only a small comfort. His father is someone he’s familiar with not having the approval of. Who else is close enough? After all, Adrien Agreste is someone thought dead. Chat Noir has plenty of enemies, but he doubts that whoever it was wanted Chat Noir dead. If they wanted Chat Noir dead, he would be dead well before reaching the city. Well before they got attached to each other. He wouldn’t be alive if whoever hired Marinette was after Chat Noir. He supposes he should be grateful for it.

But who would figure it out?

* * *

_He smells smoke. It’s probably a kitchen fire, but he should get out nonetheless. He grabs a quick knapsack of things he wants to keep, and puts on the ring containing the outfit that he has. Just in case he needs to run._

_Felix always understood about Father and Mom - how they had a push-pull relationship, and that one day one would push the other too far. It happened a few months ago, and Mom left Father. Felix taught him to escape. To get out of this place if he had to. Adrien thinks this qualifies as emergency enough._

_He jumps out of his window. The glass shatters behind him, leaving tiny scratches on his skin. He lands in a roll and looks back at the burning house. He can hear the screams of staff - and he almost thinks he sees a flash of blonde hair, but he can’t be for sure. He whispers, “_ Transformer” _and he’s more easily camouflaged within the woods in black._

_The flash he saw is gone. He’s afraid to go back in. He’s afraid that a forest fire will start. But others are already heading for the well nearby. He runs._

_It’s cowardly, but it’s all he can do._

* * *

He ran then. He’s running now. All he’s been doing as Chat Noir is running.

But he can’t run for too much longer. Marinette is good enough to catch him if both of them are trying.

He doesn’t _want_ to run from her. This time was a necessity, but it was still hard to run. Even now he feels like he’s being pulled back towards a reunion with her.

He has to keep running, but he’s tired of it. He’s tired of having to flee from a scene.

Most of all, he’s tired of being uncertain and afraid.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It’s time to be honest, Adrien. I’m going to tell you everything that I personally know that pertains to this, and you’re going to have to be completely honest, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :P Sorry if you got an email with this chapter twice. I assure you that this time is not an April Fool's joke like the last time was.
> 
> And if you missed the joke, most of it was alphabet spam.

It’s been almost two days since she tried to kill Adrien and he ran off.

One day, eleven hours, and a few minutes.

She’s found Emilie’s location. The lair is a nondescript cottage on the other side from where she first landed in the midst of those vineyards. Her projection’s learned a lot about the layout of the town in the meantime. She knows it well, and knows where she has to land.

Marinette isn’t even really sure if it counts as a lair.

She’s been too dedicated to this task, draining her magic, sleeping erratically to get it back up, staying for as long as she can. She needs to stop Emilie. She should have asked the questions earlier. Why would a mother want her own son dead? How did Emilie suspect that Adrien is Chat Noir?

She hears whispers occasionally of Chat Noir sightings in the city. Everyone knows that Adrien and Chat are one and the same now, but there is still some suspicion that Adrien wasn’t the person they thought when it’s really the other way around.

But really, it culminates on her balcony.

***

She hasn’t really used her balcony since before she left for Mirstone. But it’s sunny, and feels like the perfect place to take a nap.

She’s shaken awake by someone. Marinette expects it to be one of her parents. It isn’t. She doesn’t recognize the person whose face is over her face and pushes them away.

“Whoa there.” She recognizes that voice. “No need to push me away. I think you pretty much tried that already, albeit more dramatically.”

“Chat?” She shakes her head. “I thought you would have left or something.”

“I did. But I think I had to come back.”

“It’s time to be honest, Adrien. I’m going to tell you everything that I personally know that pertains to this, and you’re going to have to be completely honest, too.”

“Sure, Minimouse.” She smiles at the nickname. It’s been too long.

“Let’s head inside. I don’t want to reveal too much out here. Anyone could eavesdrop on us.”

He looks in both directions.

“Alright.” They head into her room.

***

“I’ll start at the beginning. On the same day you and I met, I was in the woods a few hours before. I encountered a stranger as I was heading back to my house to get changed to go into the village.

I didn’t know who she was at the time. She was wearing a veil, so I couldn’t see her face. She told me that she needed a service, that she wanted me to find out your identity. Chat Noir’s identity. She told me I had a year to figure it out, and that when I did, she gave me a pouch with payment and a communication method. And then we met.”

“What happened after?” He seems interested, like he’s hanging on to her words.

“I told her, and then she said to kill you. She agreed to reveal herself - she probably thought that I would be growing suspicious, and the information wouldn’t stop me from trying because of the reputation of the Chengs. But, when a mother wants her own son dead…it arouses some suspicion. Some suspicion that I didn’t even think about until it was too late.”

“A...mother?”

Adrien looks heartbroken. She understands. If her mom wanted her to die, then she would feel disappointed and betrayed.

“Yes.” She moves to put her hand over his to comfort him. “I know this sounds awful, but I’m sorry. For whatever it’s worth. I knew that it could’ve come to having to kill you. I was hoping that it wouldn’t.”

He flips his hand around so that they’re holding hands and sitting on her bed.

“Felix taught me the spell that turns me into Chat Noir. I’m grateful for it. It allowed me to get out of the fire without having to deal with everything. Without having to deal with the rest of my family. Not that I don’t love them, but there is some grief that I possess for my father. Felix always told me that he was mistreating me, that he wasn’t a good parent. And I guess Mom left for a reason, but Father was never physically cruel to me.”

“That doesn’t mean that he wasn’t cruel in other ways. I never knew him, so I can’t say for sure, but there are other kinds of cruelty besides physical.”

“...On the day of the fire, I ran. But I saw a flash of blond. It could’ve been anyone, even just one of the staff fleeing from the fire, but I get the feeling that whoever it was did set the fire. I don’t know how. I still don’t know who it is. Nobody does. But I’m starting to get the suspicion that it was Mom behind the fire. It wouldn’t be such a leap…”

“I don’t know. That’s a pretty big leap to me.”

“She has more cause to hate him than to hate me,” he points out. “She left him. Sometimes I wonder if I would’ve been better off if I went with her. I think maybe that I would’ve. Father wanted to isolate me, thought most people weren’t good enough. But now that I know...I don’t think going with Mom would’ve been the right choice either.”

“Sometimes it isn’t as simple as right versus wrong, especially in choices with such a big magnitude like this.” She massages the back of his hand. “For whatever it’s worth, we’re here now. And you can’t go back and change the past.”

He sighs. “I know what comes next. People tell me not to worry about it. But I can’t just…”

“It’s hard.” She fills in the blanks, guessing at what he means.

“Yeah.”

“I know where she is. We could go get her.”

“I just want to ask her why. I just want her to explain.” He swallows. “I need to know why she wants me dead. That’s all.”

“I want her to not want you dead. I don’t want you to die. Contrary to my actions. Which...I haven’t really addressed yet.”

He looks over at her skeptically, almost challenging her to do so.

“I promise that I won’t try to kill you again, Adrien. I don’t want you to die. I’ve had a duty to uphold for a long time, and this was my first big job. But I don’t care about the money. And if I have anything to say about it, she can’t do anything to take my reputation down. Maybe I’ll take up a better profession than killing after this is all over. Become a knight, or a guard, or something. I don’t know.”

“That’s good to hear that I’m not in immediate danger by being around you.” He chuckles, though she thinks it’s far from funny.

“You never will be again. I promise.” And she means it.

Adrien looks over at her. He almost seems grateful.

He shouldn’t be. He has every right to be angry with her, every right to cut her off and leave her wondering. But they’re holding hands, and maybe she can believe that he forgives her.

“How are we going to get there?”

“I was going to rent a couple horses. The family doesn’t own any - we get everything delivered. I wanted to make the investment for my own in Mirstone, but I don’t think that’ll come to be.”

“How far away is she?”

“Aulas.”

“I don’t know where that is,” he confesses.

“I have a map on my desk.” They stand up in unison. She doesn’t want to let go of him - and neither does he, it appears.

They stand over the map at her desk. “The X marks where the town is.”

“...that’s about as far as Mirstone.”

“Yeah. I think with the horses it’ll be faster. We’ll be back in time for the coronation. You’ll get to see Felix and Chloe. Don’t worry.”

“I wasn’t going to. You always seem to have a plan.” The way he says it feels like a compliment. She’s heard those same words before - used as an insult for when someone does something unpredictable and she can’t handle it.

Planning’s always been Marinette’s strong suit, but life doesn’t always follow plans.

***

This one, thankfully, goes well. She says that she’s heading out, and her parents don’t question anything. They haven’t really questioned her since before she left. The coming of age did something to their relationship. She isn’t really sure yet if it’s good or bad.

The guy who rents out his horses is exceptionally kind when she says that she wants to rent out two horses for the next nine days. Kinder when she pays him double the price he sets. She leads the two horses out to the checkpoint gate.

The plan is that Adrien will get out while he can, and she’ll grab the horses and join him outside of the walls.

And from there on, they’ll go for as long as they can on a daily basis. She hopes he knows how to ride - she had to learn because it was part of undercover training. Adrien’s royalty - and royalty ride horses.

She leads the horses out of the larger gate. The guard leers at her. She pays the guard little mind, just doing her business and going on.

She sees Adrien waiting for her, and starts leading the horses over to him. They end up meeting in the middle, and they get on the horses. He smiles at her, and though she’s never noticed his smile before she feels slightly unbalanced, even though her posture on the horse is perfectly fine.

She has the map, he has the food. They’re going faster than they would be walking - a slow horse is about the same pace as an average human. There’s nothing that makes journeys faster - just them.

They take a break when the sunset is blinding, when the sun prevents them from seeing what’s ahead. But they keep riding until the horses get tired, and only then do they rest.

They’ve gone far. It’ll probably take another two days to finish the journey.

And then they’ll have to confront Emilie. In the flesh.

She hasn’t talked to Emilie in person since she was hired.

“Minimouse, you okay?” Adrien asks, as she’s starting to drift away.

“Fine, thanks,” she says. “Just pensive of what’s to come.”

“I know. She’s far more powerful than either of us, if it really does come to a fight.”

“I don’t want it to come to a fight. I just want her to leave you alone.”

“Leave  _ us  _ alone. You’re with me now.”

She smiles. “Good night, Adrien.”

“Night, Mari.”

Yet another nickname. Strange.

***

_ She falls into a mansion, nicer than anything she’s ever known. She’s dreaming - Marinette knows for sure, now. Because this isn’t something she’s used to. She remembers this mansion - seeing the skeletal portraits of it in the newspapers. This is Gabriel Agreste’s mansion - before the fire. _

“Uef erttem,”  _ she hears someone say. Emilie - Marinette recognizes her voice. She peers out a window and accidentally phases through a wall, almost as though she’s Projecting into the past version of the Agreste mansion. (Which isn’t possible, but everything’s possible in dreams.) _

_ She sees Emilie holding up a torch, and then a broken window and the torch is tossed in. The house is still built from wood, and it catches on the wall easily and burns throughout the kitchen. Screams start coming. Emilie looks around, and then flees. She looks up, and sees Adrien - as Chat Noir - jumping out his window. He looks at the passing blur of Emilie and shakes his head before running off into the forest. And just as well, because the fire is catching fast. It’s made its way up to the roof by now. _

_ She doesn’t follow either of them. She watches the house burn, the roof falling in before someone arrives and uses a spell to summon water to put out the fire. _

_ The house cannot be rebuilt. It will be left forever this shell, left out in a forest on the eastern edge of the kingdom. _

_ She remembers some of the crazier rumors after the fire - Gabriel’s ghost haunts the ruins, the ghosts of the staff, if you look hard enough you might find Adrien himself. _

_ But none of the rumors, she realizes as she looks at the dream, are real. _

_ The dream probably isn’t real, but she can ask when they reach Emilie. But in reality, she feels warmth… _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holding hands before marriage? How scandalous! I'm totally not guilty of writing it, the characters wrote themselves! I'm so sorry to all the underage readers who were exposed to premarital hand holding /s


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They stop in front of a relatively non-descript cottage on the outskirts of town.  
> “This is it?” Adrien asks.  
> Marinette nods. “We should knock. Are…you ready for this?”  
> Without answering, he steps up to the door and sharply knocks a few times.  
> The door swings open. “Mom?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a long time. And I think this is the longest chapter of the story, at almost exactly 2.9k (according to Google Docs, at least). This chapter was frustratingly hard, but once I got the main meat of the chapter down, it was easy to write the stuff surrounding it.
> 
> Speaking of the main meat of the story, I actually got about half of this chapter beta'd! (From about the excerpt in the summary to right before they go back). Thanks to Khan and MiniNoire for being willing to go over this with me and telling me that nobody can read my mind. Emotional action scenes are hard, okay? And if you notice a spike in the quality of writing there...the majority of this story IS unbeta'd, so this sticks out. I am not infallible, and this chapter is especially important to get right.
> 
> Warnings for: mentions of abuse, both domestic and parental / some physical fighting with weapons / knives (Marinette has a pair of daggers, they don't get used)
> 
> Enjoy the penultimate chapter of this story, and hopefully the next one will not take as long. The main push for this one was the existence of Marichat May - though this story is more Adrinette than Marichat at this point, it still contains elements of both and I wanted to get out this chapter before the end of the month, which I have succeeded in doing.

She wakes to see that the sun has fully risen. It hasn’t gone too much further, but it’s still later than she would’ve liked.

“Morning, Minimouse,” Adrien says casually, tossing her an apple. Breakfast.

“Why didn’t you wake me up earlier?” she asks.

“You need the rest. You can’t be in your right mind without sleep.” He makes a good point, but she would still like to make the journey as fast as possible. She takes a bite out of the apple so that she doesn’t have to respond.

She swallows down the bite. It feels more audible than it probably is. “Let’s go.”

He looks over at her. “If you’re sure.” She continues eating the apple as she mounts the horse, settling in for the ride as she finishes the breakfast. When she reaches the core she offers it to the horse.

They keep riding on toward the village until sundown.

* * *

Towards the end of the next day, they arrive at the village.

“We’re here.” Marinette looks at the village. “I remember seeing this when I was projecting. I wonder if my grandma is here right now - that’d be something.”

“Your...grandmother?”

“Not the Cheng one - the one on my father’s side. She was kind of a free spirit - lived here for a few years. On better terms with my parents than my father’s other parent.” She scowls. She hasn’t spoken with M. Dupain - apparently, no one had since her parents got married.

Aside from hating her mother on the basis of being from the Eastern Territories, he also hated her parents for breaking from tradition. One, they invented a cool new bread recipe, and two, her mother also decided to retire from being an assassin early for domestic life.

Marinette never thought that she would do the same thing, but looking at Adrien, she can almost see why her mother would choose to retire early.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks.

“I don’t really need to,” she answers. “Not a lot to say about them. She moved out of here a while ago and she doesn’t really come back to areas that she’s left, but she does occasionally send letters.”

“That’s cool. You know, that you have family members that actually love you,” he dryly remarks. She looks over at him.

“Adrien, are you mentally prepared to do this?”

He yawns. “Yeah. But I think we should shack up for the night. Sleep. And we can face her when we’re well-rested. And it’ll be good for our magical stocks, too.”

They trot over to the local inn.

“You look after the horses, I’ll talk to the innkeeper?” she proposes. “I don’t want you to get dragged into anything.”

He nods.

Marinette walks into the inn.

“One room, two beds?” she says to the person behind the counter when she walks in.

“Two?”

“I have a companion waiting outside with our horses.”

“I see,” they answer. “You may put your horses in our stable. How long will you be staying?”

“Two nights.”

“That’ll be thirty-two units.”

That isn’t...that much, all things considered. Eight units, per person per night. It makes her doubt exactly how high-quality the inn is - it’s relatively close to the border, so it should be making money. But it’s their only choice for the night.

“Alright.” She opens up the pouch and removes as many units as she needs.

She heads out for Adrien. “Hey. I paid for our rooms, two nights. I figured that tomorrow will be pretty emotionally exhausting, so we can spare another night.”

“And the horses?” he asks. She doesn’t blame Adrien for dodging the subject. They don’t have a plan besides the vaguely nebulous “talk to Emilie.”

“We’ll pen them up in the stables.”

There’s some nice food at the inn, too, and she provides a couple triple-units for each of their meals, for the entire time they choose to eat at the inn.

The innkeeper, seeing as Adrien and Marinette are the only ones currently staying in the inn - they were busy recently, but pretty much everyone’s traveling to the capital for the coronation in five days, so they’re past the little border.

“Even with the coronation providing a boost in business, there still aren’t many people that stay in this inn.” The keeper sighs.

“Why?” she asks. Probably a mistake. “The food is great, the service seems pretty good, and this is a nice place.”

“People tend to not trust someone with a gender that isn’t male or female.” They huff.

“That’s horrible,” Adrien says. “This is a really nice place, and if they can’t look past their bigotry to see that this is a nice place, then they don’t deserve it.”

“Not a great business model,” she and the keeper say in unison.

The three of them awkwardly finish their food. She and Adrien head up to their room, where there  _ are,  _ in fact, two beds.

Marinette washes up a little bit, changing into clothes that’ll be more comfortable to sleep in, and goes to sleep in one of the beds, collapsing onto it.

* * *

She wakes up to muffled screaming.

She looks over at Adrien, whose face is submerged in his pillow.

Marinette makes a split-second decision to wake him up. “Adrien? Adrien, you’re having a nightmare.”

Adrien abruptly sits up, looking thoroughly disheveled and disturbed.

“I was dreaming about the fire again. But except this time I burnt to death.”

“That sounds...terrifying.”

“We should go back to sleep.”

“Yeah. Sweet dreams.” Marinette starts heading back to her own bed when Adrien taps her shoulder.

“Stay? Maybe sleeping together will help keep the nightmares away.” If it weren’t in the middle of the night, she would feel a little more embarrassed at the way she feels flustered.

It’s just one night in the same bed. They’re...something? And maybe that something involves cuddling at night.

“Yeah. I’ll stay.” She crawls into bed next to him, their backs touching as they fall asleep.

* * *

The next morning, the two of them wake up intertwined.

“You feeling better?” she asks.

“Good morning. And yeah, I do feel better.” He averts his eyes while he says that, leading her to believe that he’s lying.

“Are you feeling emotionally prepared for this, because if so we can totally-”

“I need to do it today, Minimouse. I don’t think I can put off the inevitable for too much longer.”

“Okay.” She offers him a smile - reassurance. “Let’s get going, then.”

They get out of the bed. Marinette almost misses the warmth, but she still gets dressed in most of her fatigues, excluding the mask for now - and the weapons, she’ll have time to load up after breakfast. After all, every quality attempt at confronting an estranged mother with...the person you want to court? 

They should talk about that. But there are more pressing issues than that.

She arrives down to breakfast, where Adrien passes her a pastry. 

They eat in a comfortable silence.

“I need to go back up and grab a couple more things.” She heads back up to their room and methodically loads all her weapons in. One dagger hidden in each boot, loop the rope where a belt would go, garotte over rope so as not to injure (and for easy access, too).

Good to go.

Adrien’s waiting for her near the door, a bag slung over his shoulder.

They leave the building together, but Marinette ends up taking the lead because she’s the one who actually  _ knows  _ where Emilie is currently residing.

They stop in front of a relatively non-descript cottage on the outskirts of town.

“This is it?” he asks.

She nods. “We should knock. Are…you ready for this?”

Without answering, he steps up to the door and sharply knocks a few times.

The door swings open. “Mom?”

Adrien sounds a little…broken, fragile. Almost as if were Emilie to say the wrong thing, he would shatter to pieces.

Emilie’s face betrays her with a look of shock that’s quickly masked into impassivity. “Adrien. What are you doing here?”

Marinette feels the urge to protect Adrien from her. She steps in front of him.  _ “We’re _ just here to talk.”

Adrien says, “We should let her decide. May we enter?”

Emilie frowns, but makes a gesture to allow them to enter.

“I must say, I didn’t think you’d be able to find me. How did you do it?”

“A couple location spells. And some projection.” She frowns. “Why do you even care?”

“I hired you to do your job because you’re supposed to have a duty to your job above everything else. I have always admired the Chengs’ tenacity and dedication, but you have disappointed me, Marinette.”

“How do you know my name?” the assassin snarls.

“Oh, did you really think that silly pseudonym would stop me from knowing?”

“Marinette.” Adrien places his hand on her shoulder. “It won’t help to attack her.”

“I have a  _ moral compass,”  _ she retorts to Emilie. “Just because I’m part of a profession that kills people for a living doesn’t mean that there are no lines that shouldn’t be crossed! And I have to question w-what exactly is making you do t-this.” Her voice trembles a bit at the edges.

“Marinette,” Adrien says again. “Keep it together.”

Emilie goes on, as though her last few words had just bounced off of her. “And you brought my target with you? I should just do the deed myself.”

Adrien stiffens as his hand drops from her shoulder. “W-Why?” He seems to have gone back to when she opened the door. Or maybe he never left that fragile state. And that’s when Marinette realises that this shouldn’t be  _ her _ confrontation. It’s up to Adrien. It’s  _ Adrien’s _ choice whether to forgive or to punish. It shouldn’t be hers. She’s a third party, dragged into this by love and by duty.

“Why d-do you want me t-to  _ die?”  _ Marinette takes his hand. Adrien needs every bit of support that she can provide him. He chokes out his words, almost crying without tears. “Y-you just- you just  _ left.” _

“Do you remember what I said? I asked you what would happen if your father left. And you said that you would come with me.”

He ducks his head. “I never thought that it would be real. And besides,  _ you _ left. Not him.”

“Because he forsook us long before I physically left.” Emilie takes off her gloves. “He sought to isolate us from the beginning. It was only because I had my sister to support me that I realized that they were signs of abuse. We had you so he could continue to make me stay with him even after I wanted to leave.” The poise Emilie has possesed since the beginning seems to fall apart as she tosses her gloves to the ground. “I  _ wanted _ him dead.”

Silence falls.

“And then she helped me get out…I wanted you close to me, Adrien, because Gabriel- he was just greedy. He wanted to keep you and me close to him. And you. Chose.  _ Him _ . You chose him.  _ Over me _ . And you never even knew what you were choosing.”

Marinette feels…more than a little awkward to be here. This is a family matter. She shouldn’t be here.

“Your father did a number on me. And you never realized that he was doing the  _ same thing  _ to you, Adrien. I was never one for dramatics. But burning down the house was the best way to eliminate both of you - and get rid of that atrocity that should never have belonged to him. It should’ve worked.” She shakes her head. “I should’ve known that Felix would have helped you get out. Just like how Amelie helped me…”

Adrien lets go of Marinette’s hand to fidget with his ring a little bit. “I-I’m glad that I lived.”

“Don’t you  _ see,  _ Adrien? You’re part of the reason that I was under  _ him _ for so long. You’re so loyal to him that you can’t see the truth!”

“No.” He straightens. “That isn’t it at all. I’ve come to terms with his death, that Father wasn’t the best there is. That he isolated me from my peers and that I was mentally abused. But this isn’t healthy, either. Death isn’t the solution. If you take your revenge, you create an endless cycle.”

Emilie shakes her head. “You’re too forgiving, Adrien.”

“Sometimes, forgiveness is the right thing to do.” He seems less fragile now, less ‘about to break’ and more ‘determined to stop this, but sad about it’. 

_ “Resilibommi!”  _ Adrien dives out of the way of the paralysis, which probably hits a poor mouse between the floorboards.

Marinette withdraws the garrote from her belt and uses it as though it’s a whip to lash out at Emilie, who declares a quick  _ “Regetorp”  _ to shield herself from the blows.

The assassin glances towards Adrien. He seems afraid. She’ll defend him. From  _ anyone. _

She wasn’t trained to use magic in combat, but she can use it to enhance the damage a bit.  _ “Reroilema,”  _ she whispers. The garrote shimmers with magical energy. She readies to attack again, winding up and lashing out when-

“ _ Stop! _ ” Adrien calls. “Please.”

Marinette jerks it back before the weapon can hit Emilie.

“He’s your  _ son.  _ Listen to what he has to say.” Emilie falters a bit, the next spell about to spill from her mouth stuttering out in just jumbled syllables.

Marinette’s words seem to hit Emilie hard. The look on her face is something resembling disgust. Marinette knows that it most likely isn’t towards her, or her words, but for what Emilie had done.

“I’m sorry.” Despite Adrien being the fragile one at the beginning of this encounter, Emilie is the one that ultimately falls apart. “I’m so sorry.”

Adrien walks up to her. “I’m not going to ask for anything. But I can’t forgive you, after everything.” Marinette smiles. She’s...proud of him for saying that. “I know you might ask what you can do to earn my forgiveness. You can’t. At least, not right now. Not quickly.”

“I d-don’t deserve your forgiveness. I know that. But allow me to remove myself from your life.” She gets up to grab...a crystal ball?

Oh. Marinette knows what she’s doing.

_ “Eigam recnoner,”  _ Emilie declares. That’s the last spell that Emilie will ever cast. A purple aura clouds the crystal.

The gravity of the situation weighs down on Marinette.

“You said there was nothing I could do to earn your forgiveness, but allow me to just pass on a blessing.” She hands Adrien the ball. He seems shocked, and tries to push it back onto Emilie. “I wish you all the best.”

They leave the cottage without saying goodbye.

“Are you okay?” she asks as they start walking back to the inn. He secures the gift from Emilie in his bag.

“Not really. But I think I will be. Just not right now. Everything that went on in there was kind of overwhelming. I need some time.”

“That’s fine.” They get back to the inn, and she gives Adrien his space in their room, continuing to chat a bit with the keeper and their spouse.

“So, what are you here for?” they ask.

“His mom lives in town. We were going to see her because he recently got in contact with her again and we found out that she was living here. They hadn’t gotten to talk in years. The reunion…didn’t go well.”

“What happened?”

“We were hoping that she was better than his father, who was not a good parent either. And she wasn’t.”

“Did she not approve of your courting?” Marinette jolts. As little details as possible, and the two of them figured out that there was...something between them.

“I don’t think that was the only problem that she had with him.” She sighs. “We aren’t  _ officially  _ courting, per se. We haven’t talked about it yet.”

“That’s okay, miss. I think you’ll get there.” The spouse winks at her.

She sighs, looking out the window to see that it’s now night time. “I’m going to head up.”

“Good night, miss!”

Marinette heads to bed, feeling restless.

* * *

The next morning, they check out of the inn, saying goodbye to the innkeeper and their spouse.

It’s peaceful, too peaceful.

“Adrien, are you sure that you’re okay?” she says, as soon as they’re out on the road away from town again.

“Of course not. First I learn that my father wasn’t the man I thought he was - and then I get caught up by my mother who wanted to kill me. It’s a lot. I just lost both of my parents - who’s next, Felix? Chloe? Who’s going to be the next betrayal on the list?”

“This might be hard to believe right now, but not everyone is out to betray or hurt you.” She was one of the people who did, though. He forgave her, and it should be in the past, but is she worthy of forgiveness?

“One of the main keystones of my life wanted to kill me. I think I’m entitled to a little sadness.” Adrien smiles hollowly.

“I...wish we could have met under different circumstances.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

They keep riding until night falls.

Emilie might be out of their lives physically with her actions, but she’ll continue to have effects on Adrien’s life for years to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some Notes:  
> \- Emilie's Fate: Emilie did a spell to give up her magic, for those of you who don't speak French and/or can't reverse words. The magic remains inside the orb. Crystal is a good vessel for magic. Giving up your magic is a Serious Thing, and people without magic don't necessarily face discrimination per se, but they are sometimes pitied.  
> \- Money: A triple-unit is equivalent to sixty-four units. Base-eight system. A double unit would be sixteen. Life is confusing and money is confusing and I don't feel like explaining the entire economic system but basically units = copper standard. They aren't paper money, but it isn't a copper/gold/silver system, either.  
> \- Why Marinette Isn't Magically Trained: She is trained in magic, the basic kind, not the combat kind. Magic schools, such as the one where Kim and Marinette became friends, do exist - but they don't really teach much combat. Marinette learned the art of killing from her maternal grandparents, who do not have magic. As you may recall, Marinette is the first Cheng with magic in a long time.
> 
> Let me know if you have any questions on the world, because I love worldbuilding a lot and wish I could fit more worldbuilding into this story without it becoming an absolute dump of worldbuilding. I'd be happy to answer any and all in the comments section or on the ML Fanworks Discord, of which there is a link in the second endnotes. The next chapter is just to wrap up most of the loose ends, including the coronation of Felix and Chloé!


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She thought that he would want to leave her now that their adventure is over, but they're different now. They’re different from when they started the journey. She wants him to stay with her. She wants them to stay together. But she would let him go if he wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is wayyyy less angsty than the summary makes it sound. It's a mostly-fluffy epilogue I swear.
> 
> I wrote this chapter because it's Marichat week over in the ML Fanworks server (link in endnotes). Without that I would have procrastinated this a little more.
> 
> Thanks for sticking with this, every step of the way. I'm hoping to post some extras in this universe with these characters. More on that after the chapter.

The gates to the city are more crowded.

It’s not surprising, seeing as tomorrow is the coronation. 

“Why is it so crowded?” Adrien asks.

“Did you really forget about the coronation?” she asks, hoping it comes off more as humorous than mocking.

“I mean, with everything going on, I almost did.”

They’re riding up to the “individual/small parties” gate, which is just a smaller gate than the bigger one.

“Your cousin, not mine,” she says.

“Could be.”

She whips her head around towards him. “What do you mean?”

“I-I want to court you properly, Marinette. If you’ll have me.”

It’s...surprising, to say the least. Despite everything, she didn’t think it would come so soon, if at all.

“Of course, Adrien.” She smiles. “Whatever you have to give me, I’ll take it.”

She wants him to court her. She wants to be able to say that they’re courting. It’s a tenuous first step beyond friendship, but she’s still excited. She thought that he would want to leave her now that their adventure is over, but they're different now. They’re different from when they started the journey. She wants him to stay with her. She wants them to stay together. But she would let him go if he wanted.

Marintete knows that there is no reason that he should stay. But by asking to court her he’s choosing not to leave.

* * *

Once within the walls of the city, they return the horses.

“I want to see Felix and Chloé,” Adrien says. “Now that we’re back. He never really liked Mom. I don’t know why. Aunt Amelie loved her. I have no idea why he doesn’t.”

“Well, now you have a little bit of an idea. There’s no justification. I know there’s no justification for what she did. And what I did because of her.”

“Marinette, I already forgave you. You don’t need to explain yourself again.”

“But did you forgive me because I deserved to be forgiven, or because of…”

“Those are separate things, Marinette. I want to see where this goes. I want to be around you. I want to stay together. I don’t know exactly what will come of it, but it’ll at least be something. You...you aren’t my family. Not yet, at least, and it’s easier to forgive you for making that choice than it is my own mother for wanting to kill me. You never wanted to. That’s the difference. You felt driven by duty. She actually wanted to. And that made a difference to me.”

Adrien abruptly stopped and grabbed her shoulders. “You’re worthy of forgiveness, Marinette.”

She doesn’t know if she can believe him. But she has to try. “Okay.”

They end up going to the bakery instead.

“You’ll get to see them tomorrow, Adrien,” she says. “We can even head over before the ceremony so you can get the better spot. Besides, I get the feeling that they aren’t fond of me.”

“You knew Chloé before, didn’t you?”

She looks down at her feet, refusing to make eye contact. “I did. We went to the same school. Like I said. She was always envious of power, and those who had it.”

“Well, now she’s going to be the most politically powerful person in the nation.”

“That’s…honestly a little terrifying. You know how terrifying that is, right?”

“Chloé’s not a chaser. She wasn’t looking for that kind of power. She wanted more magic.” Adrien stiffens. “I have the perfect thing.”

“What?”

“For coronations, other nobility offer gifts for the one being crowned. I’m going to give her Mom’s magic.”

“That’s one way to get rid of it,” she dryly answers. “Do you trust her?”

“I’ve known her for the better part of my life. I’m sure that she’s gotten better since school. Responsibility ages you quickly.”

Sometimes she forgets that they’re still so young. That they still have time.

And for a little bit, she didn’t think that they would have any time at all. That Adrien would be dead before they got any more time together.

Now they have all the time they could want, and she doesn’t know what to do with it.

There is one thing. She can keep moving forwards. Take it day by day, see where they go.

They end up going to the bakery.

* * *

“Marinette,” her mother asks her in private, “why is Adrien still alive?”

‘Because it was his mother that wanted him dead, and that is wrong. I...I refused. And maybe I killed my chances. But it’s. It’s worth it, Mom. I don’t regret it at all. I made the more honorable choice. And is honor not one of our values?”

“Time will tell if it was the right choice. But I do think that it’s awful that she wanted to kill him. I personally believe that you made the honorable decision. I’m proud of you.”

_I’m proud of you._

Marinette beams at her mother. “Adrien asked to court me officially. I accepted.”

“I hope it goes well, Marinette. You’re old enough to decide for yourself.”

“Thank you, Mom.”

* * *

They’re sitting together after dinner on her balcony.

“We need to explain what the ball _is,”_ she points out. “They won’t really understand otherwise.”

“I’ll do it,” he answers. “I think I need to write down the words anyways.”

He gets up and heads in, presumably to write the letter.

* * *

The next day comes. She lets Adrien pick her dress for the coronation, because she can’t decide from the ones that she has made in her closet.

It still feels weird to be walking next to him, to know that Adrien is royalty - that he asked to court her is _significant,_ because if anything she should’ve been the one asking him.

Him asking her implied that he thought that she was the one that deserved to be asked, that he was of lower status than her.

She grabs the bag with the crystal ball in it.

“Ready to go.”

* * *

They come across an unexpected obstacle at the palace gate.

“What do you mean _you can’t let us in?”_

“Well, your highness, I could let you in, but not her.” The guard glares at her, and she feels tempted to shrink a little if she could. (Well, she could, but conservation of mass does exist, so it’d be weird.)

“She and I are courting. I have a right to, yes?”

The guard opens the gate. 

“Thank you,” Adrien says. “Where may I leave my gift for Chloé?”

“There is a table inside, Prince Adrien.” It still feels weird to hear him identified by title. “You may leave it there.”

They find the table easily, along with Felix, trying to catalogue them all.

“Needed something to do?” Adrien asks.

“I- Oh, Adrien.” Felix turns towards them. “It is good to see that you will be among us for this ceremony.”

Felix might be about to be crowned king, but she still doesn’t really like him.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Adrien sounds so genuine.

She opens the bag and places the crystal ball on the table. Adrien places the letter next to it.

“Interesting,” Felix remarks. “What exactly is it?”

“Read the letter and you’ll find out,” she answers, smirking. “Though you should probably do it with your wife.”

“Who exactly are you?”

“My name is Marinette. At your service.” She curtsies. Marinette is probably enjoying this a lot more than she should.

Felix looks between them. “Allow me to escort you to where you will be watching from.”

“Of course,” Adrien answers.

* * *

More and more people bustle around as the ceremony grows closer.

“Is it always like this?” she asks Adrien.

“Not quite, but there’s always something going on,” he answers. “It was mostly just lonely. Chloé and Felix were my only people, and then we moved out to the country and I didn’t really get to see them that often because Felix had to stay in the palace and Chloé was still in the city.”

“That sounds awful. I can’t imagine growing up without the people around me. I guess I got a little taste when I was training with my grandparents, but that was only a couple years - not for the majority of my life.”

“I won’t lie--”

Adrien is cut off by the sounds of an announcer.

“We are gathered here to celebrate the crowning of a new queen and king today.”

Chloé and Felix stand next to each other on the dais. Chloé’s hair is up in an elegant bun, and both of them look older than their age. She supposes that it makes sense - they’re about to become the rulers of a country.

“I promise to protect and serve the country, above myself and above all others,” Chloé declares. The vows. “As the Chosen Ruler, I will provide for the throne and preserve this land for as long as I am able.”

“As the spouse of the Chosen Ruler, I will support her throughout her life in every aspect,” Felix promises.

It isn’t a wedding, but the promises carry the same weight of devotion. Chloé kneels, and the crown is carefully placed on her head. When she stands up, she and Felix take the scepter together and turn to face the crowd.

Cheers rise from the previously silent crowd. She looks at Adrien’s bright smile as he cheers for them.

She yells her congratulations alongside them. There’s nothing to wait for. No need to anticipate and wait anymore.

* * *

As they walk out, they get stopped by Felix. “I read the letter. Did Aunt Emilie really…” he pants.

“She hired me to kill Adrien,” she says. (Confessing that she’s Multimouse. He probably already knew, if he and Chloé were together at the time, but he needs to hear it from her mouth.) “I almost did, and that’s the scariest thing of all.”

“It speaks a lot of you that you did not,” Felix answers. It sounds like approval. Like he’s giving his blessing. “Adrien, you will always have a place here if you need it.”

“I will be sure to keep that in mind, Felix,” Adrien replies. “I think you were right. About Mom.”

“The generation before us has more darkness than we ever thought. But we can end that now,” Felix answers. “We can put a stop to the secrets and abuse. Together.”

She feels like an intruder in this scene.

“Together.” Adrien embraces Felix, who looks absolutely stunned by Adrien’s decision. She smiles at them.

* * *

The two of them approach the gate.

“If you want to stay, Adrien, that’s okay,” she says. “I would understand if you want to be with Felix and Chloé instead.”

“I would be lying if I said that I didn’t want to be here instead. I was going to ask you to come with me. To stay.”

“You already asked me to stay,” Marinette answers. “When you asked to court me. That means that we’re stuck now. You gotta convince me to fall in love with you now.”

He smiles. “I get the feeling that won’t take much, Minimouse.”

She boops him on the nose. “We’ll see.”

The guards open the gate for them. “Is it too soon to ask for a goodbye kiss?” he teases.

“Nope.” She gets on her tiptoes and leans in to peck him on the cheek.

“You missed,” he says, and kisses her properly on the _mouth._ It feels...warm. Good. She thinks that she’d love to do this over and over again. It’s closed-mouthed, and light, and soft - not a deep kiss, but it doesn’t have to be right now.

They have time, after all.

“I’ll be sure to visit soon, kitty,” she says.

“Not if I don’t visit first,” he answers.

She walks out of the gateway. It swings closed behind her. 

This goodbye isn’t permanent, even as the clicking of the gate signifies that she won’t be able to get back in unless she goes around.

She turns back to wave at Adrien.

It doesn’t really feel like goodbye. After all, she will be coming back to the castle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's over! Well, not really. I want to write an extra about how Adrien courts Marinette, and a couple prequel-extras about the Adrien-Felix-Chloé relationship. 
> 
> I'm also doing an AMA later this month via the ML Fanworks server, link (hopefully) in second endnotes. Ask me questions about this fic, or just me as an author in general. We'd be happy to have you! Thanks for those of you that stuck with me through this, to everyone who left a kudos or comment. I appreciate all of you.

**Author's Note:**

> [ Join the ML Fanfiction Server!](https://discord.gg/mlfanworks)
> 
> Follow me online:  
> alto-tenure - main Tumblr  
> the-river-of-light - visual art Tumblr  
> beunforgotten - writing Tumblr  
> riiveroflight - Twitter


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